Reunited: Lost and Found
by Corpsegirl93
Summary: Happily married, Emily and Victor announce their first born. But tragedy strikes one night, and it seems some things can't remain in the past. The requested and long-awaited sequel to my debut story - 'Reunited' :)
1. Introduction

Hello readers!

Welcome to the introduction chapter of 'Reunited: Lost and Found'! The sequel has finally arrived! *fanfare* *audience applause* (haha!)

To any readers who have NOT read the original story 'Reunited'…please do so, it helps to understand this story.

To anybody who has read (and enjoyed the first story) THANK YOU!

So, without further ado – ENJOY!

 **Introduction:**

Victor sat there, leaning back comfortably in his armchair, fingers laced together and by his mouth, feeling both nervous and impatient. It didn't help that his mother kept drumming her fingers against the wooden table, revealing her own impatience. He wouldn't complain or lash out at her though, that was not appropriate. Not at all, and not what he was brought up to do.

Still, despite the anxiety, Victor was happy. He was married to the woman of his dreams and the love of his life – alive _and_ dead! He couldn't ask for more. They were extremely happy, healthy and enjoying life as a married couple. They had just had their eight month anniversary and making themselves comfortable in their own home. As soon as the wedding certificate was signed, Victor was out of his parents' house. It no longer felt like a home. And he vowed to make a 'home' with Emily.

And they had it! They had a home. A house with solid walls, beautiful glass windows, furnished rooms, a perfect view of the village and close to the church for Sunday services. But it was missing something. Or rather, _someone_.

Victor and Emily had promised each other a family, so their house could become a proper home for them all. Beautiful children with their father's hair, their mother's eyes and their shared musical passion. That was the only thing Victor prayed for every Sunday service. He had often told the pastor of his wishes, and he agreed that God would only grant a wish for those who deserved it. This pastor was friendlier, easier to talk to, and someone with a warmer heart in comparison to his predecessor.

Just two months ago at the beginning of June, Pastor Galswells had passed away. His service had been a small gathering in the church, and within a week he was replaced by a younger, inexperienced boy. In comparison, Pastor Lee was a school boy, but that did not stop him from spreading the word of God, in a way that pleased everyone and made them feel content.

With this hope in his heart, Victor stared at the book shelf, trying to block out his mother's incessant finger-drumming. Eventually, his father was the one to argue.

"Must you, Nell?" he simply said, his hands shaking on top of his walking stick. Nell Van Dort looked at her husband with such displease in her eyes. William nodded towards his son, who was unable to see his father's gesture. Nell took that as an order, and sat her hands in her lap. They were sitting on the two seated sofa, watching their son with pride. His devotion as a husband was astonishing. Since his period of depression the year before, he had become a more positive and lively person, and a wonderful husband. They were sure he knew they were proud of him, that he had become a man and left behind the boyish years he was once trapped in two years ago. His nervousness and anxiety had disappeared completely when he married Emily. Almost disappeared. They weren't including today.

Today was a waiting game. Victor had been sat in that chair for an hour, constantly looking in to thin air, millions of questions running through his head. He didn't acknowledge his parents. Or Emily's, for that matter. Lord and Lady Hunter were trying to distract themselves too. Lady Hunter had been reading the same book for an hour now, but hadn't turned the pages at all. Something else was on her mind. And Lord Hunter was pacing the floor, the click of his expensive shoes echoing throughout the house on the marble floor.

"Christopher, please" Lady Hunter would say with impatience, shutting the book. He turned to his wife, knowing the struggle she was going through. He took his wife's words as a small cry for help, and took a seat on the sofa next to her, placing an arm around her shoulder and holding her close.

"I'm sure everything's fine. The doctor knows what he's doing" he comforted his nervous wife.

"I know" she sighed, leaning against her husband's shoulder and closing her eyes. She didn't like waiting. It was a cruel game that time would play, and no one had control of it.

"Would anyone like some tea?" Beatrice the maid offered.

Everyone was assembled in Victor and Emily's house, his parents and Emily's were gathered together.

"I won't say no" Nell Van Dort chimed. William Van Dort merely nodded, as did Christopher and Margaret Hunter. Victor said nothing, he was like a statue. A living, breathing statue.

"Tea for four then" Beatrice smiled, walking away to the kitchen, naturally assuming from Victors silence that he wasn't interested.

"Do you want a cup of tea, Victor?" his mother asked, carefully leaning forward to try and get his attention. But nothing stirred him, not even the chime of the clock marking the hour of 5 in the afternoon. It wasn't until he heard the sound of a door opening from upstairs that he finally broke from his trance.

Everyone reacted the same as him, standing from their seats and watching the two figures on the landing. The sound of heels clicking on the floor rang out, as Emily appeared at the top of the staircase, an aged man in a white coat following her. The man carried a large, black leather bag, obviously a well-used bag judging by its signs of wear.

Emily was looking as magnificent as ever in Victor's eyes. Wearing one of her finest dresses – a light dusky blue with white lace at the cuffs and neckline, her hair loose and wavy around her face, and showing off her delicate pearl earrings. She reached the bottom of the stairs, her hand on the banister, the man close behind her. She faced everyone, seeing their eager faces looking at her with such intent.

"Shall I tell them, or shall you, my dear?" the man asked. Emily merely smiled.

"No need, I shall tell them. It is my news, after all. Victor darling" she smiled, seeing her husband. She approached him, taking his hands in hers and noticing how his shirt was creased and the sleeves rolled up round his elbows.

"How long have you been waiting?" she asked.

"Too long" he sighed, the first words he had said in hours.

"Well, it is not wasted time. Sit down" she kindly ordered. Victor did so, taking his place on the sofa, Emily sitting by his side, his hands still in hers. She sighed deeply.

"Doctor Wilson was very thorough. He has performed all of the necessary tests and has come to a conclusion that…" she paused, savouring the words on her tongue.

"What? What did he say?" Victor asked nervously.

Emily couldn't control the smile that now dominated her face, as she proudly announced:

"He said I'm pregnant, Victor. You're going to be a father."


	2. Beginning: Chapter One

**Chapter One:**

But it seemed that the happiness would only last so long. Because no sooner than 4 months later, on a cold December night, did the unthinkable occur.

5 o clock:

The bump was well and truly showing, Emily now blushing like the happy mother-to-be she as, with her father smiling widely over having a grandchild. They were having afternoon tea, enjoying the cosy warmth away from the winter air and discussing possible baby names.

"If it is a boy, you could call him Christopher? Christopher Van Dort has a ring to it" he chimed.

"Because I must have a man named Christopher in my life? Not because that is your name?" Emily had smiled.

"Not at all" her father replied, sipping his tea.

With the fire roaring wildly and the smell of a roast chicken being prepared for supper, everything was pure bliss. Emily couldn't be happier. Married to her perfect husband, pregnant with her first-born, warm, well-fed and spending loving time with her father, awaiting Victor's return.

Victor had been finishing off the accounts at the fishmongers, and preparing to shut up the shop, in order to return and enjoy a hot supper with his wife, before snuggling close by the fire and reading a favourite book. That was what he had done. He returned home, ate a delicious hot dinner and joined Emily on the sofa by the fire, settling down with his book.

And then the telephone rang.

A brand new device that Victor and Emily were astonished by and praising at the same time. The winter blizzard had spread wide and far, shutting in households and stopping them from venturing outside until shovellers could arrive at the most convenient time.

The maid, Harriet had heard the phone and appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron after finishing the washing up, and answered the telephone.

"The Van Dort residence" she answered. She went silent, listening intently to the caller.

"Mr Van Dort" she chimed, indicating that Victor had to leave the sofa and take the call. He sighed to himself, cursing the minor disturbance and put his book down, walking over to Harriet.

"Thank you Harriet" he said, taking the receiver from her. She didn't move though. And that's what worried him. Normally, she would've returned to her duties, but this time she watched him intently, her eyes filled with…sadness? Something upsetting.

"Hello" he said, awaiting what news came from the other end. He was silent, listening carefully. Minutes passed, Emily looked up from the sofa, sensing the change in her husband.

"No, no. I appreciate it. No need…I'll tell her. Shall we see you tomorrow...alright, 11 o clock. Good night…I'm so sorry" he sighed, putting the phone down.

He bowed his head, placing his hands on his hips, Harriet still watching him. She offered a kind hand on his shoulder, and he merely smiled as a small tear appeared in the corner of his eye.

"Harriet, would you be a dear and fetch me a brandy…and a tea for Emily please" he said.

"Yes sir" she curtsied and left the room, leaving just Victor and Emily alone, the sound of the roaring fire echoing throughout the living room. Emily knew this was bad – Victor rarely touched alcohol, especially brandy. So when it was requested, she knew something was very wrong.

"Victor? What's wrong?" Emily asked. Victor couldn't ignore his wife, especially when she looked at him with such loving and worried eyes.

"Emily…that was your mother." He returned to the sofa and sat beside her, taking her hands in his.

"What did she say?" she asked.

"She…she called…oh goodness" he stuttered. "Emily…I have no idea how to say this to you, but you must know. I am so sorry, but…"

Emily watched him, her eyes filling with tears, not sure what she was about to hear, but fearing the worst. Unfortunately, she was right to assume the worst.

"Your father had a heart attack this afternoon. But he didn't survive it."

It was as if time had stopped. Emily's tears immediately started pouring down her face, her cries screaming throughout the house. Victor could do nothing more than cradle his heart-broken wife as she poured her soul out in agony and grief over her father. The noises she produced were like sounds of torture and crying for help. Victor shed his tears equally for the loss of his father-in-law, and helped to dry Emily's, especially when the funeral arrived.

Held at the local church with Pastor Lee leading the service, Victor comforted Emily, who held her mother's hand, who cried continuously in to the same handkerchief. And the burial was painful. Victor was required to carry the coffin, all the time listening to his wife's sobs. But she had said how glad she was that he had stepped up to the job, how noble it was of him and how proud she was of his strength. All he did was smile weakly and hold her hand. How he wished he could resurrect her father, to grant her most desired wish at that moment. But all he could do was look to the future, and hope it was brighter.

Meanwhile, 'downstairs':

"New arrival! New arrival!" Miss Plum yelled over the ringing bell. Once again, the Ball and Socket pub was alive and thriving with the living dead and deceased, pouring in through every door from every street. Everyone was gathering to see their newest member of the 'undead family'.

"Welcome sir, welcome" the ladies would smile, gazing at his expensive and smart attire.

"Drinks for everyone" Paul the head waiter announced.

"What may we call you, sir?" Alfred the skeleton asked, his pipe sandwiched between his teeth.

"Lord Hunter. Christopher Hunter" he said.

"Hunter?" Miss Plum paused, thinking. The only other person with that surname was their infamous Corpse Bride…but…

She remembered. Lord Hunter didn't know his own daughter had died after her disappearance, and then returned to living form. Elder Gutknecht had been watching her return home after her full regeneration, and she told her parents she had amnesia and could not remember a thing. He had told everyone in the pub that same evening, but he had not looked in to her since she returned to the living world. She had to think carefully about what she was going to say.

"Pleasure to meet you, Lord Hunter" she smiled, taking his hand and shaking it, grabbing a mug of ale and casually passing it to him.

"Thank you all" he nodded, accepting the drink. "I am not one for a drop of ale, but I suppose it won't hurt now" he chuckled lightly, but sadness and grief in his eyes as he took a sip.

"Our deepest sympathy for you, Lord Hunter. And for your family, no less" Miss Plum started fishing.

"Thank you. Yes…indeed. I have only been buried for no more than one hour, and I miss them already. They have departed from my grave, I can feel it." He glanced upwards to the sky, indicating the living world above.

"Who, precisely? Wife? Brother? Daughter?" Miss Plum continued.

"Wife, daughter and son-in-law, and dear friends" he said, before Miss Plum screeched with uncontained excitement.

"Son-in-law?!" she cried, uncontrollably.

"Yes" Lord Hunter jumped. "I'm sorry, I am a little confused. Why…such a reaction?" he asked.

Mayhew sighed at Miss Plum, she'd done it now.

"Um" she stuttered. "Well…we…we once had a…oh dear…Mayhew darling, care to shed some light?" she dropped him in it.

"What?!" he shot a look at her. But he could see no other way out of this. Lord Hunter had to know how they knew his son-in-law, but they couldn't avoid telling the truth about his daughters passing.

"Lord Hunter" Mayhew began. "I used to work for your son-in-law and his family. The Van Dorts?"

"Really?" Christopher replied.

"Yes, nice family. Especially their son. Now forgive me, but when I was working for his family, their son Victor was engaged to a woman called Victoria."

"Oh, Miss Everglot. Yes, Nell and William told me about her when he became engaged to my daughter" Lord Hunter sipped his drink.

"Your daughter?" Mayhew casually dropped the hint.

"My darling girl Emily."

At that point, Miss Plum could not contain her excitement any longer. She practically screamed down the entire pub, leaving everyone staring at her and Lord Hunter with curiosity.

"Am I missing something?" he asked.

"Uh…well" Mayhew stuttered.

"He has to know eventually" came an old, withered voice. The crowd slowly parted to see Elder Gutknecht, approaching Lord Hunter, bent over with his walking stick and little dog Scraps trotting behind him.

"Good evening sir" Elder Gutknecht greeted Lord Hunter. "Welcome to the Land of the Dead. I trust your welcoming reception has been most pleasant."

"Most, indeed. I am a little flattered. But, I must know. You react as if…as if you know my daughter? Am I correct?"

"Yes." The wise skeleton began. "Some years ago, we welcomed a young girl and a living boy to this world. They were newlyweds. Known as the Corpse Bride and her Living Groom. But otherwise, they were…Master Victor Van Dort…and Miss Emily Hunter."

"I beg your pardon?" he was clearly in shock.

"I am sorry to tell you, Lord Hunter. But your daughter died on the eve of her wedding night, after she planned to elope with her lover. However, he had other ideas and…did the unspeakable. He murdered your daughter, buried her under an oak tree in the forest close to your village, and left her there. We do not know how long she was there for. It was not until 18 months ago, when your daughter was revived by the recital of the wedding vows from a young man, lost in the forest. When they arrived down here, Emily was blissfully happy with Victor, but their marriage was not official. The vows bonded their marriage, only 'until death did they part'…and Emily had already parted. Anyway, the re-marriage went ahead but unfortunately did not end as intended.

Victor's fiancée from the living world, and your daughter's killer arrived on the scene. I shall put a long story short, Emily sacrificed her love for Victor's happiness and her murderer received his comeuppance. He is now a residence in this land. Thankfully, Emily was freed of her curse, but it was not what brought her back down here. You see, a freed soul would immediately fly to heaven, but something else kept Emily down here. We believe it was her ever-lasting love for Victor. And it seemed that Master Van Dort felt the same. After her departure, he fell in to a state of depression for four months, until Emily returned to him."

"I remember. His parents told me how Miss Everglot had left him because of his love for another woman…I…I did not know he was so besotted over my daughter."

"An unbreakable bond, no less" Elder Gutknecht nodded. "As I was saying, Emily returned to the living world…with a little help from science."

"And you" Miss Plum chimed. "Lord Hunter, it was _this man_ who returned your daughter to you."

"My goodness" he sighed.

"Yes, indeed. And I watched gladly as you were reunited with your daughter."

"She told us she had amnesia. Could not remember a thing about where she had gone or what had happened." Lord Hunter looked around, to see everyone watching him, including the skeletal jazz band upon the stage, who stopped playing as soon as Miss Plum had screamed.

"She…she died, sir"? he looked at Elder Gutknecht, tears in his eyes.

"Yes, sir. She died."

"But more importantly, she came back" Miss Plum said. He smiled, picturing his pregnant daughter, at home with her husband.

"Yes…yes, she did. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for her. She is alive and well, and that is all I could wish for. That my wife, daughter, son-in-law and future grandchild are safe and well."

Everyone went silent. Eyes wide, mouths ajar, all stunned in to silence.

"Grandchild?" Miss Plum asked.

"Yes. My daughter Emily, your Corpse Bride…is withchild." He smiled, sipping his drink once more.

"Our girl is pregnant!" Bonejangles, the jazz singing skeleton cried.

"Hooray!"

"And married to Victor Van Dort?" Miss Plum asked.

"Indeed. They have been married for a year now. And their first child is expected within the next two months" Lord Hunter confirmed.

The pub erupted with celebration, the music filling the air, every living dead resident toasting their drinks in celebration, overjoyed to hear the news that their darling Corpse Bride was alive, married and pregnant. All was well.

Except for one small thing…

Lord Barkis had created a skill of being sneaky and devious, listening in and hiding away from others, prying in to their lives and conversations. And he had done just that. He had made his way from his dark, desolated hide-away and ventured to the pub, hearing about a new arrival. He hid by the doorway close to the piano, out of sight. He was cloaked in darkness as he listened in to the new arrival and the old skeletons telling of how he had taken his daughters life. He remembers this man. When he had his eyes set on Emily, he had spied her out walking with her father on more than one occasion. Lord Hunter didn't know Barkis' face; they were never introduced to one another. From their brief affair, Emily only told her parents of Lord Barkis from his 'love' letters. And now he was here! A permanent resident of the underworld.

But that didn't bother Barkis. He was technically speaking, immortal! Though not welcomed at all by anyone in this place, he didn't care. He heard the words of an expected baby and the happy parents awaiting its arrival. How he loathed them! That girl and her so-called perfect husband didn't deserve to breathe. He should've killed that boy Victor whilst he had the chance. But _she_ had to get in the way and ruin everything. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be dead. She was to blame, and Barkis had been trying to plot revenge on Victor an Emily for a long time. Now the opportunity had presented itself. He knew he couldn't kill either of them, he'd only meet them down here again, and he despised that idea.

But he knew what else could be done.

It seemed a trip to the Land of the Living was called for.


	3. Beginning: Chapter Two

**Chapter Two.**

Emily's mourning over her father was gently fading away. What once were panic attacks that woke her in the night and left her shaking, now only little tears would shed at the mention of his name.

Since the eighth month mark of her pregnancy arrived, Margaret Hunter moved in to the spare room of their house. She had been haunted by so many things missing her husband's presence. A double bed only sleeping one person, the clothes in the wardrobe begging to be worn, the empty space at the breakfast table, the smell of coffee that she had to put up with in the morning because he loved to drink it first thing, even though she despised the smell. And she hated the torment.

So, upon her decision and agreement with Victor and Emily, she moved in temporarily in to their spare room until the baby arrived. She wanted to be present at the birth, and to be close should Emily need any advice from her.

And so in early February, the big day arrived and once again, Victor was confined to his designated armchair, waiting endlessly. But his arm chair had been moved and was now sitting outside his bedroom, so that he was near his wife when the baby arrived. But even then, he was not allowed inside the birth room. Husbands were not permitted to the bedroom when the birth was taking place. Hence, the chair. And it pained Victor not to be in there, holding his wife's hand.

He could hear Emily's cries from inside, her painful cries that Victor wished he could stop.

The hours passed by, and the cries continued as the doctors ordered "to keep pushing".

Luckily, Emily had her chosen birth partner in there with her. Victor wasn't offended or taken back by this decision – he knew that Margaret was the perfect person to be in there with her daughter. After all, she had given birth to her and she had had her mother there at the time. It seemed a tradition of some sort. Plus, since her fathers passing, she had grown closer to her mother, like she was rekindling for the lost years after her 'disappearance', and holding on to the last living parent she had.

His jacket thrown over the chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up and hair all frazzle from waiting, Victor was now pacing the corridor outside his room, the constant tick-tocking of the clock driving him insane. Now the scary questions were seeping in to his mind. Would Emily survive this? Would the baby make it? Would he lose both his wife and child in one night? How could he cope with that loss?

But all of those questions were wiped away when Victor heard the door opening behind him.

There stood Doctor Wilson, the same doctor to diagnose Emily's pregnancy, dressed in his white coat with a large grin on his face and Victor knew instantly everything was alright. He realised that the cries and curses of childbirth had stopped, and just over the doctor's shoulder, he saw Margaret leaning over her daughter, propped up in bed as she cradled something small in her arms.

"Would you like to meet your son, Mr Van Dort?" Doctor Wilson asked.

A son! Victor didn't need to reply, the tears of joy in his eyes were enough to answer. He immediately walked past the doctor and caught sight of his wife, her long brown hair cascading over her shoulder. Her face was as red as a tomato and covered in sweat, but the most beautiful feature was her smile. A mother's smile.

She looked up to see Victor approaching her bedside, beaming magnificently. Victor was speechless to look down and see the blanketed bundle in her arms. He didn't know what to say! He took a seat on the bed, all the time looking at his new born baby.

"Would you like to hold your son, Victor?" Emily asked.

Again, he didn't say anything. He just looked up at his wife and smiled. She took that as a yes and slowly leaned over.

"Careful" Margaret advised, watching Emily pass their baby to Victor.

He was in awe. Holding a little baby in his arms, brand new to the world. His son! The little boy slept silently in his father's arms, as he was rocked back and forth like the precious thing he was.

"My son" he whispered to himself. "Our son" he smiled, looking up at Emily.

"Our baby boy" she smiled.

"I am so proud of you" he leaned forward and kissed his wife. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I am now he's here" Emily said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"And on that note" Margaret spoke up. "As beautiful as he is, we cannot continue to call your baby 'him'. He needs a name."

"Ah yes" Victor sighed. "What had we discussed, Emily? I…I seem to have forgotten." Victor stuttered.

"Well…" Emily looked up to her mother and back to Victor. "I know we had discussed some suitable names, but there is only one name on my mind for him now."

"Oh?" Margaret said.

"It seemed like a joke at the time, but…Dad made a funny comment, saying he should be named after him…but now he's…" Emily stuttered, trying not to cry over her father.

"Now he's no longer here, I feel it necessary to name him Christopher."

Victor could not agree more. He looked down at his new born son, and instantly saw it.

"It suits him. He looks like a Christopher. If that is what you wish" he smiled to Emily.

"Really?"

"Really" he nodded, looking down at his son and kissing him on the forehead.

"Christopher Van Dort. Welcome to the world."

Meanwhile, 'downstairs':

"It is a boy" Elder Gutknecht wrote down on a parchment of paper. He scribbled his signature upon it, and handed it over to little Scraps, placing it between his teeth.

"Now, deliver" he instructed. Scraps immediately bound from the skeletons tower, down the stairs and along the cobbled streets until he found the pub. He weaved between skeletal legs and rotten dress skirts until he found Lord Hunter, sitting by the bar with Bonejangles the skeleton, casually talking.

He yapped wildly, until he got Lord Hunter's attention. He bobbed his head to signify the meaning and importance of the paper in his mouth. But Lord Hunter knew that already. The Elder skeleton had promised he would send the news of the birth through a special delivery. And what else was more special than dear Scraps, loving companion to his son-in-law?

"Scraps, drop it" Bonejangles gently ordered. Scraps gently dropped the parchment in to Lord Hunters open hand. He unrolled it eagerly, reading the handwriting carefully.

He went silent with delight and shock, and simply handed over the parchment to Bonejangles, who knew exactly what to do. He jumped upon the stage, and holding the parchment high in his hand, he yelled across the pub.

"Rejoice, rejoice! A little boy."

The pub went silent, looking at him like he was a lunatic. It was so quiet, a pin could be heard dropping. Everyone looked at him, not sure what he was on about. It wasn't until Alfred the skeleton looked over to see Lord Hunter, a look of pure ecstasy and joy on his face.

"Oh!" he cried. "A boy!" he looked up at Bonejangles.

"Yes!" Bonejangles cried. Then everyone started to catch on. They all looked over at Lord Hunter's face and realisation slowly crept up on them.

"She's…!"

"Our girl…finally a mother?"

"Yes! Everyone, it is true. Our beloved Corpse Bride has become a mother…to a little boy!"

"Hurray!"

"Drinks all around, for everyone!"

"I propose a toast" General Bonesalot raised his tankard, and invited everyone to join him. The pub raised their glasses high, and cried with the General.

"To the new born boy!"

"To the new born boy!" Everyone rejoiced and necked down their drinks in one hearty gulp.

Lord Barkis watched from the shadows once more, an evil smirk spreading across his face. Taking his usual spot outside, he watched as the pub celebrated, congratulating Lord Hunter on becoming a late-grandfather. It was obvious he was upset though. He'll never get to see his little grandson grow up, never get to hold him. "Oh, what a pity" the Lord sarcastically thought to himself.

The plan was now in place, all he needed to do was wait patiently. Not one of his best qualities, unfortunately. Whenever he had spied his next 'betrothed', he was instantly eager to drag them to their resting place and do the necessary work. But now, he had to wait. He had to wait until the Van Dort's were in a vulnerable position.

So, like the venomous snake he was, he slithered away to his hiding place and waited…waited silently…until he would strike and take what they loved the most.

Oh, such joy in revenge!

* * *

 **Authors note:**

Dun dun dun! What is Lord Barkis up to?! You shall find out in chapter 3…

Hopefully this story is meeting expectations. Please comment and review. I love to hear your reactions, reviews and thoughts!

Love from the UK!

Corpsegirl93 xx


	4. Beginning: Chapter Three

**Chapter Three.**

2 months later.

"It's grandma's birthday. Yes it is, yes it is" Emily giggled and tickled her baby boy. Lying in his cot and gazing up at his mother with the cheekiest grin on his face, little Christopher laughed.

Victor watched from the doorway of their bedroom, as Emily knelt on the floor and leaned over the cot, devoting her attention to their baby boy. He couldn't help but smile. Finally, his wife was beaming and glowing with beauty, pride and love, after many months of sorrow and heartache. He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his trouser pockets as the afternoon sun slowly seeped in through the windows, lighting up Emily and Christopher like they were angels.

"And how old is grandma?" Victor teased to Emily. She looked up, her curls bouncing around her face as she caught sight of her husband.

"You should know" she replied. "She made it very clear at our wedding."

"How could I forget?" he replied laughing, picturing the memory in his head, remembering like it was only mere seconds ago.

"Is her present wrapped?" Emily asked. Victor nodded.

"Yes. Patricia corrected my abysmal attempts and even added a bow."

"You didn't put a bow on anyway?" Emily asked, stunned. Victor merely shrugged, looking down at his son.

"You ready for tonight?" he asked.

"Just about. I've chosen my dress, I just need to decide on a pair of earrings" she sighed.

"No, I meant…are you ready?"

"I don't quite understand."

"Will you be alright…without him, for one night?"

Emily looked at him, a little stunned. She hadn't thought about it. Her first night away from Christopher, her first night out to a social event since his birth.

"Oh" she sighed. "I suppose I will have to be. Patricia will look after him though" she smiled.

"I don't doubt it. She is a wonderful nanny" Victor said. "But you will be alright?"

"Of course. It may be a little bit of a struggle…I just love him so much…but if I stay in this house any longer, I think I'll go insane. You don't mind if Mummy goes out for the night, do you?" she cooed, aiming that question to her son. Christopher merely giggled in response, smiling a cheeky grin, making Emily and Victor laugh.

"You sure you'll be alright?" Victor asked softly.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll be fine. It will all be fine" she smiled.

Two hours later:

"It may be April, but there's a chill in the air. Best to wrap up warm" Patricia suggested.

"My jacket will be enough, thank you Patricia." Victor nodded, adjusting his cufflinks.

"Miss Emily?"

"I have a shoulder wrap, I'll be fine" Emily smiled to Patricia. Standing by the front door, the two were preparing to leave for Lady Hunter's birthday gala.

"You have everything for Christopher?" Victor asked, grabbing his mother-in-law's birthday present.

"Absolutely, Mr Van Dort. Now go and have fun. You two deserve a night out. Take as long as you want, I'm not going anywhere" Patricia smiled, slowly ushering Victor and Emily out of the front door. Finally adjusting her hair, Emily threw her shoulder wrap around her and smiled at Victor. He smiled back and offered his arm to her, she immediately looping her arm through and pulling herself closer to him.

"You look stunning, as ever" he complimented. Emily merely giggled and smiled, her way of showing her appreciation and thanks.

"We'll be back before midnight" Emily assured Patricia, before walking out of the door with her husband.

Meanwhile:

"Before midnight? Damn!" Barkis screamed. This was _**not**_ what he had hoped for. He had intended for them to return when the entire household was asleep, the maids and nanny included, but no!

Having crept in to Elder Gutknecht's tower last night and perusing the pages of his most trusty book containing magic spells and wishes, he had taken both the 'Ukrainian Haunting' spell and the 'Seeing Eye Portal' bottle. Allowing him to look through to the Land of the Living, in the confines of his hide-away on the desolate side of town. The portal was like a mirror with no reflection. A device for viewing what you wanted to see. And he had been watching Victor and Emily for the past three hours, waiting to hear when they would depart for the party. He had hoped it would be later than midnight when they returned. There was something about striking at midnight – something more dastardly and 'poetic' about it. The end of one day becoming another. As one glorious thing ended, another began. Just not as spectacular.

He paced his room, thinking over the strategy.

"Looks like I'll have to make some adjustments" he sighed. "But never-the-less, all will go…according to plan."

Back 'upstairs':

Patricia sat by the cot, watching little Christopher sleep. He was by far the easiest baby to take care of. He slept the majority of the time, and he only woke when he wanted to be fed, then fell asleep straight after.

Patricia sat idly by his cot, working on a crochet blanket to keep her entertained and from falling asleep. It didn't matter anyway; she appreciated the silence of the night, compared to the hustle and bustle of the day time. It gave her time to catch her breath, be silent and enjoy some alone time.

The time was now just after 11 o clock. The windows of the bedroom were open slightly; enough to let in a cool April air and have the curtains sway in the breeze, but all was quiet and peaceful. So quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

So it caught Patricia's attention immediately when she heard a disturbance from downstairs. That sounded like a bottle smashing. Ugh! It was probably Harriett and Alfred, mucking around in the kitchen again, having been at the servants wine and getting carried away. She had told them repeatedly, but it seemed they never listened. A small bubble of anger growing inside her, Patricia abandoned her crochet upon her rocking chair and headed downstairs, shutting the bedroom door firmly behind her.

She arrived at the kitchen doors, storming inside, prepared to see a drunken servant and the home cook…to see Harriett and Alfred at the preparation table, playing cards with empty cups of cocoa by them.

"Beggar my neighbour" Harriett said, before seeing Patricia standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

"What is it?" Alfred asked, catching her eye.

"What did you break?" Patricia asked firmly.

"Nothing. We've been here for the past…oh my goodness, two hours?! That went quickly" Harriett explained, glancing at the kitchen clock.

"Why?" Alfred added.

"I heard something smash. Like a bottle, or something fragile."

"We haven't broken anything, honestly. Do you see any bits of glass or china?" Harriett said, intentionally looking down at the floor to prove her point. Patricia was amazed. She was certain she had heard it, and there wasn't enough time to sweep up the evidence and throw it away…plus, the cocoa in the cups were staining the china, so they had been there for some time.

"Oh…well then…my apologies" Patricia said.

"You've been up there for hours, watching that baby. Maybe it's sleep deprivation?" Alfred suggested.

"Maybe. Anyway, must return. That crochet won't finish itself" she chuckled, before leaving the kitchen.

Very strange. But none of it mattered, nothing was broken, everything was fine. Except now, she could hear Christopher awakening and crying for some attention. Patricia sighed, and headed for the stairs. But when she arrived at the top, she saw that the bedroom door was open. Not by much, but enough to notice that it was open. She knew she had shut it properly moments ago, she heard the click when it shut. And this frightened her. The wind wasn't strong enough to open that door by itself, so what did?

Not wasting another second to think, Patricia stormed through the door where Christopher's cries were louder and more urgent, demanding her attention. And she saw why.

A dark figure was standing over the cot, looking down at the baby, its hands reaching forward like a vicious claw. Bathed in the moonlight seeping through the window, the figure was cloaked in black from head to toe, the only appearance of colour in its cold lifeless eyes.

Patricia wasted no time; she knew if she didn't act, Christopher would be harmed.

"NO!" Patricia screamed, lunging forward to the cot in an attempt to stop this 'thing', whatever it was. But it was way ahead of her, for as soon as she took in a breath to scream, it looked up and stared at her. Its eyes suddenly glowed ferociously, like burning coals. It lunged at her, throwing its arm back to grab her rocking chair next to the cot, and…threw it at her!

What strength this thing had! The chair was heavy for one person to handle; it required two men to move it when it had first arrived. How did this thing possess such strength?

Patricia didn't have time to think, for seconds later, the chair came flying at her, colliding with her and forcing her against the bedroom wall, knocking her head hard and sharp.

She was dazed as she fell to the floor, the room spinning around in her eyes. But not enough to see the thing finally reach in to the cot and scoop up Christopher in its arms, who was crying with fear, crying for his Mum.

Oh good god…maybe it was death? A vision of death, come to take him away?! She couldn't allow such a thing, he was too young and too precious to be taken!

Patricia made one final attempt…but failed. The injuries on her head kept her to the ground, she must be concussed. She tried to get up, but her concussed head forced her back down, her legs giving way underneath the weight of her body. All she could do was lie on the floor and watch.

Watch as the shadowy figure, cradled a screaming Christopher in its arms, before throwing a dark, misty cloak around it…and disappearing instantly, leaving Patricia on the floor, stunned, silent and scared.

"ALFRED! HARRIETT!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "HELP!"

Within moments of hearing her distressed cries, Alfred and Harriett were sprinting up the staircase and burst through the doorway, Alfred catching sight of her on the floor.

"Good God, what happened?" Alfred knelt down and cradled a crying Patricia in his arms. Harriett was already ahead of him. She was slowly creeping towards the cot, praying in her mind that she was wrong. But she was not. The baby was gone, his blankets ruffled and his toys missing their owner.

"Oh dear Lord" she whimpered.

"What?" Alfred asked.

"Christopher's gone. Patricia…what…what on Earth?" Harriett stuttered.

"Call the police" Alfred ordered, and Harriett took her demands with immediate effect, rushing back down the stairs to the home phone, whilst Alfred stayed with Patricia.

"What happened dear?" he asked her softly.

"I…I think…I think it was death. It was all in black. And it disappeared…with him…oh dear God…what are we going to tell them?" Patricia cried in to Alfred's sleeve.

Half an hour later:

Slightly tipsy from the champagne, Victor and Emily gently rode along in the back of their carriage, savouring the joyous energy from the night.

"Oh, what a night" Emily sighed, leaning against Victor's shoulder. As he loosened his tie, he peered down at his wife, letting her rest.

"Indeed. I think it is safe to say that your mother had a fun night" he chirped.

"'Fun' doesn't begin to cover it. She was ecstatic! Just what she deserves" she sighed, closing her eyes briefly.

"We all deserve a little happiness. Especially now a days" Victor stroked her hair with his thumb, kissing her forehead gently.

"And I think it is safe to say that you too had a fun night. You haven't danced that vigorously in a long time."

"Can you blame me?" she giggled. "Though it was mothers special day."

"Emily…" Victor began.

"Another year older but no change in attitude or behaviour" she ignored him.

"Emily…" he repeated, this time more urgently.

"Still the vibrant woman I knew as a child" she finished, before Victor leaned forward in the carriage, leaving her to fall away from his shoulder.

"Hey, what…" she began, but then saw what he was gazing at. Another carriage outside their home, with the local police emblem across its door.

"What on Earth?" Victor whispered to himself, jumping out of the carriage as soon as the wheels had stopped turning, Emily shortly behind him with her skirts round her knees, not caring if anyone saw. They barged through their front door, to see two police officers standing in their hallway, dressed from head to toe in uniform, holding notepads and pencils in their hands and looking down at Patricia.

Victor saw her sitting down in an armchair looking traumatised, Harriett and Alfred standing behind her with their hands on her shoulder, comforting her.

"What's going on here?" Victor asked, directing the question at everyone.

"Mr and Mrs Van Dort?" one officer asked, stepping forward.

"Yes" they both answered.

"I'm afraid there's been an incident" he said.

Emily wasted no time. As soon as the officer had said 'incident', she was sprinting up the stairs to their bedroom, praying she was wrong. Victor saw her go, but his mind was spinning with questions that he immediately went to Patricia, hoping for some answers.

"What happened here?" he said to her, kneeling down to the floor taking her hands in his. She was in tears, and she had a large noticeable bump on her head.

"Oh Mr Van Dort, I'm so sorry…I couldn't do anything…I tried to…but…I couldn't" Patricia began…but she was interrupted.

The horrific, tortured screams from upstairs echoed throughout the house, ordering silence from everyone. That was Victors cue to attend his wife. He leapt from the floor and bounded up the stairs to their bedroom. First, he saw two more police officers standing outside the door. Then he heard more heart-breaking screams coming from Emily.

He flew through the door, seeing the rocking chair lying misshapen on the floor and Emily clinging on to the cot, on her knees, shaking horrendously. She was crying so badly, he had never seen her like this before, and it broke his heart instantly to hear her weeping like this. She didn't need to say anything. All she did was cry. She sensed him behind her, watching her and she turned to see his face. Her face was stained with tears, her make-up smudged and her hair dishevelled.

She didn't say anything, she just looked at him. She didn't need to say anything at all. He threw himself to the floor as she let go of the cot, losing her balance and falling to the floor. He caught her and wrapped his arms around her so tightly, never letting go.

"He's gone" Emily wept, burying her face in to Victors shoulder, using his waistcoat as a tissue to absorb her tears. Victor didn't respond just yet, he was being haunted by the sight of the empty cot, missing its owner.

But he couldn't show defeat so easily; he knew he had to be strong for Emily. She was a heart-broken mother, mourning her child and he needed to support her, in whatever way a husband should. So he rocked back and forth on the floor, whispering in her ear, kissing her gently on her temple.

"It's alright. I'm here. I've got you."

On the outside, he was the loving, devoted, supportive husband any woman would wish for.

But inside, he was broken.

He couldn't help a single tear leave his eyes, letting it fall. He didn't care if anyone saw him. He had just lost his son, he was a broken man.

And he didn't know what to do, other than cradle his wife as she wept uncontrollably.


	5. Middle: Chapter One

**Middle: Chapter One:**

10 months later:

Emily sat alone in her bedroom, sitting by the window in the rocking chair. A new rocking chair – the previous one _had_ to go! Too many splinters in the wood, and too many bad memories. Despite it being a bleak February day, the weather was surprisingly cheerful – the sun seeping in through the curtains, a slight warm breeze in the air, and the smell of fresh flowers by the window sill. But none of it affected Emily. She was sad, depressed, and felt like she would never recover from it. Not without a miracle.

Victor watched from the doorway of their bedroom, a tray in his hands. Upon it sat a plate of steaming hot food, made freshly from the kitchens, and a glass of water standing proud beside the cutlery and napkin. Everyone knew what day it was, and everyone tried to think positively. So they made Emily's favourite dishes, they kept the house spotless, the flowers fresh in the vases, all of the curtains open to invite the sunshine in, and the pantry stocked with the more favoured foods, should Emily be up in the night, looking for a way to drown her sorrows without alcohol. She could do with the nourishment, she has lost a lot of weight in her time of sorrow, and was looking frail and delicate, as if she would break at any moment and shatter in to a million pieces – like a china doll.

It was now 2 o clock in the afternoon, and Emily hadn't left her chair since 7 that morning. Victor had woken to see her there in her nightclothes, her hair flowing loosely over her shoulders, and her eyes were red and swollen from excessive crying. He knew there was nothing he could do except share her heartache and show it with hugs, kisses and holding hands.

He walked towards her and set the tray down by the table behind her; in the hope she would move and eat something.

"Alfred made your favourite" he said, hoping the aroma of the food would entice her.

"I'm not hungry" she said, silently and emotionless.

"At least have a potato. Or a bite of the chicken" he suggested. Emily didn't move.

"Don't waste your time, darling. Apologise to Alfred for me. He knows how much I enjoy his cooking…but I can't stomach anything. Not today."

Victor knelt down beside her, placing his hand on top of hers and rubbing his thumb gently over her knuckles, the other hand stroking her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear. She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the warm touch on her face. As she did, she started crying. Tears poured down her face as she leaned over and embraced Victors open arms. He wrapped them tightly around her, comforting her once more. It didn't help that the baby cot was right next to her, within his eye line, reminding them both of why they were so heartbroken.

"I miss him" she wept.

"I know. I miss him too" Victor said, kissing her cheek.

"His first birthday…and he's not here. No presents, no party…nothing!" Emily cried, pulling away from Victor.

"Are you sure he's not down there?" she asked, urgency in her voice.

Victor knew what she meant. The morning after Christopher had disappeared, Emily suggested 'somehow' getting in touch with the Land of the Dead. To see if their baby boy had died and therefore turned up. The bizarre suggestion had somehow worked. It was as easy as making a phone call.

Victor had walked downstairs to the only phone in the house and picked up the receiver.

But it was pure surprise that he heard a voice on the other end of the phone, before he had the chance to press any buttons.

"I'm sorry, he's not here." The voice of Elder Gutknecht spoke at the end of the phone, giving out what little information he had.

"Elder Gutknecht? How did you…?" Victor asked.

"I've been watching you. Just me, from the tower. To keep an eye on things, and make sure you are both safe."

"We're not exactly jumping for joy, at the moment."

"I know, and I am sorry to hear. But last night, when I saw you return from your party, I sent out a search party for him. Young Christopher could've ended up anywhere in this land, but he was nowhere to be seen. I'm sorry."

"Oh…well, thank you for trying…but…can you keep checking?" Victor asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Keep checking? In case he turns up. For Emily's peace of mind. Please."

So onwards from then, every Saturday lunchtime for the past 10 months, the wise old skeleton sent volunteer search parties across the land in the hope of finding Christopher. Every week, the same faces and some new ones would combine forces in search for the baby. They searched every house, every alleyway and every shop. But no such joy. Elder Gutknecht then sent a message back to Victor, via messenger bird. One of his trusty ravens, with a piece of parchment tied to its ankle. And each time, it said the same: "He's not here. Sorry"

Which gave Emily hope. He was alive!

"They've checked dozens of times. There's no sign of him" Victor sighed.

"Then where is he?" Emily cried, louder than expected, clutching on to her husband's hands. "If he's not dead, he must be alive. He didn't crawl out of his cot _by himself_ , and then somehow get down the stairs and out of the front door! You heard what Patricia said; 'a dark misty spirit snatched him away'. What kind of force could do that, Victor?"

Meanwhile:

"Stop crying!" Lord Barkis yelled, reaching the end of his patience. Christopher had been crying non-stop for the past two hours, and showed no signs of being quiet soon. He didn't know what to do to make it stop!

"This seemed a lot easier in my head!" he sighed to himself. Dead or alive, he couldn't risk being seen near the child. The search parties had often stopped by his location each week, but luckily each time, Christopher was asleep or silent.

But today was a Saturday! And once again, the search party would continue in the next few hours. And with this crying, he was sure he'd be discovered. He couldn't risk that!

A year ago, the plan had seemed flawless. Travel upstairs, steal the child, take him downstairs and kill him – but now?! Now he was stuck with a living child, still being searched for, and he wasn't any closer to killing him than he had been 10 months ago. If he had killed him, the revenge would have been taken and the Van Dorts would forever be mourning their loss. He would be happy once more, after so long since his death!

But no! The plan was un-successful! Yes, he had stolen the child and yes, he had heard of the torment that Victor and Emily were going through – which pleased him a lot. But the idea to murder young Christopher completely back-fired.

As soon as he had returned downstairs to his hide-away, Christopher had fallen asleep and was looking so peaceful in his blanket – and he couldn't kill him. Something long dead inside of Lord Barkis had awoken, and he had felt a stab of…love. Upon seeing the sleeping child…who could've been his. Every time he looked at the child, he saw Emily's distinct features on his face. He had his mother's nose and her beautiful smile. If he hadn't committed the act of taking Emily's life, they would've married properly and started a family. Ugh, such vile thoughts! He was getting distracted! He should kill the boy before the search party arrived.

But a voice in his head reminded him that he couldn't, that he wasn't capable of taking an innocent life. Rubbish, he thought! He'd done it before, he can do it again!

"Just be quiet" he yelled once more at Christopher, seeing his toy in the corner of his eye on the floor. The only toy he had. A soft white dog toy, with a little red collar. That got scooped up with him when he was abducted, it wasn't noticed until they returned. And judging by his behaviour, it was Christopher's favourite.

"Here!" Barkis grabbed the toy and threw it at Christopher, which landed next to him on the bed. He stormed away to the window, looking out to see if the search party participants were nearing. Thankfully, no. And Christopher had taken his toy and was slowly drying his eyes.

"Oh, thank heavens!" he sighed heavily, listening to Christopher's squeaks of delight as he played with his toy.

Barkis knew there wasn't much he could do now. What options did he have left? Very little. He could either kill Christopher and be stuck with him as a baby for the rest of his afterlife, or…keep him alive, and watch him grow up…without his mother or father…hmm.

An idea stuck with him. Who knows, keeping him alive might be the best option. To turn him against his own parents.

He could see it all. Bring Christopher up as his own son, tell him that his 'mother' died at the hands of the Van Dorts, and shortly after, they murdered him, leaving him with a blue face forever. But with luck and perfect timing, he saved Christopher's life before they could take him too, and now they lived downstairs from the living world, for protection.

Years in the future, Christopher will have a head filled with lies and false beliefs. And he would then return to the Land of the Living, seeking revenge for his mother and father….on his own mother and father! It was a perfect plan! One that would take time, though. But Barkis knew that all good things came to those who waited.

"How perfect!" Barkis thought, smiling to himself and looking down at the innocent Christopher, thinking of what he would eventually become.


	6. Middle: Chapter Two

**Middle: Chapter Two.**

A week had passed since Christopher's birthday, but Emily was still depressed as ever. And as ever, the maids and Victor did their best to keep her healthy and sane.

But one April morning, Emily had woken with a tear-stained pillow, knowing it was another heart-breaking day for her. But this time, it wasn't to do with just Christopher.

It was her fathers birthday, and it was the first one where he wasn't there. And it broke Emily's heart. To be reminded that she had lost two of the most important boys in her life. She thanked the heavens that she still had Victor with her; otherwise she'd be completely lost. After all, he had saved her life in so many ways.

Once again, Victor watched her from the doorway of their bedroom. He had left work early that day to keep an eye on his wife, leaving the business in the hands of his employed workers. They understood the pain Emily was going through, and Victor trusted them enough to work without his supervision – they weren't children.

As soon as he had walked through the front door, he journeyed upstairs and put his head round the door. The bed was made, the curtains drawn and a new vase of daffodils had been placed on the bedside table, to allow some colour in the some-what 'dim' room. And Emily stood by the window, her arms folded across her chest as she gazed down at the square below. Watching the children play in the sunshine, despite a cold chill in the air, she smiled weakly.

"How was work?" she mumbled, knowing Victor was standing behind her.

"Same as ever" he answered.

"You left early?" she stated.

"They can manage without me, I wanted to spend time with you."

At that point, he chose to leave the doorway and embrace her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her warm cheek.

"You look beautiful today" he whispered to her. She smiled weakly, knowing his compliment was genuine.

She was wearing one of her favourite dresses, one that she picked on her first birthday reunited with Victor. It was the first month after their wedding, one warm May morning when Victor told Emily he would buy her anything she wanted for her birthday. Considering she had been 'resurrected' and wanted to embrace her new life with her new husband, he decided to spoil her rotten. A surprise shopping trip, where Emily had found a dress that took her breath away. A pale blue dress, with satin skirt and long lace sleeves, adorned with pearls around the square neckline. Victor knew instantly from the moment that Emily stopped walking down the market street and said "Oh look!" that she wanted the dress. That night, she wore it to their candle-lit dinner with her hair fashioned in a neat bun with little curls falling around her face. In Victor's eyes, she was radiant. And he still thought so when he saw her wearing the dress again, this time with her hair hanging around her shoulders.

"Thank you" she whispered back.

Victor acknowledged her by placing a kiss on her neck, taking in the beautiful fragrance of her perfume. It was intoxicating! Closing his eyes, he let it mesmerize him.

"My goodness, you smell…so…" Victor couldn't finish his sentence.

"So, what?" Emily wondered, turning her head to her husband, sensing the lust in his voice and body language, by the way his hands caressed her waist and he kept his head close to hers, like he was anticipating a passionate kiss. She was right.

As soon as she had turned her head to hear what he had to say next, his lips were upon hers. And she couldn't resist!

They both got carried away in their passionate and lustful embrace, Emily letting Victor kiss her neck and pulling her closer to him. She couldn't remember the last time they had made love. She missed it, she wasn't going to deny that. And judging by Victor's behaviour, he missed it as much as she did, and it was on his mind. She could feel his hands clawing at the clasps on her dress, eager to explore what was underneath. He managed to undo one or two of the clasps before Emily pulled back, her hands on his shoulders.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. She avoided eye contact with him. It wasn't that she didn't want to go further, but was worried of the consequences and what could happen afterwards. Particularly, nine months afterwards.

"I can't" she wept silently. "It…" she began again, trying to hold her tears back.

"It's alright" he whispered, kissing her on her forehead.

"I don't want another baby, Victor" she finally looked him in the eyes.

He was silent. He kept his hands on her, looking in to her eyes, searching for an explanation.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I don't want another baby. I want _him_. I want _our_ boy. I want him in my arms, calling me Mummy. I don't want to replace him with another" she wept.

"Oh Emily" Victor sighed, bringing her closer to him so now they were hugging. At the same time as she buried her face in his shoulder, he quietly did up the clasps of her dress, to save any embarrassment later.

"He will always be our boy. But crying won't bring him back. I'm sorry, I wish I could say more reassuring words but…I'm stuck. I am truly lost for words."

"I know it's not what you want to hear" she mumbled in to his shirt fabric.

He was silent, and that broke her heart a little. If she was wrong, he would've objected and said "No, no, it's alright". But he didn't. He just stood there, cuddling her.

"I hate to be the one to say it, Emily, but…eventually we'll have to move on. I can't go on living like this, seeing you every day, wasting away like you're going to vanish in to thin air…like him. I can't risk losing you too."

"You know you'll never lose me. Remember? That's what we agreed, on the day of our wedding. Remember?"

He nodded, he knew exactly what she meant.

"Our first dance" he smiled.

"By the river, in the moonlight. You said you'd love me longer than life and death."

"And so much more" he sighed. "But…" he began.

Oh no!

"Emily, I can't help think…what happens when we actually…stop."

"What" she asked confused, pulling away from him so now they were face to face.

"There's no easy way to say it, but…what happens when we die?"

"You know what happens. That's how we met!" she cried.

"No! I mean…what happens to our family when we die? Who's going to take over the family business? Who will inherit our fortunes? That's what an heir is for, and…we don't have one."

Emily looked at him, unsure if she was shocked or in total agreement with him.

"Is that why you wanted to make love? To make another heir? Is it?"

She was mad, angry, upset…but she knew he was right. Without Christopher, who was going to carry on their family name?

"Not just an heir. A child. A grandchild. It's not just you and me who have suffered this past year. Your parents, my parents, they both want a grandchild!"

"They have a grandchild!" she yelled back.

"And where is he? Tell me exactly where he is, right now!"

"I wish I knew! My god, how I wish I knew where he is, Victor. And even if he was on the opposite side of the world, I would endure every mile and walk there bare foot – on broken glass as well – just to have him back in my arms! He may be our parent's grandchild, but he's MY BABY! I carried him for nine months; I brought him in to this life and I watched him discover the world through his little eyes. Now he's gone…and…" Emily started breaking down, the tears pouring from her eyes like waterfalls.

"I'll never see him again…never hold him…and I'll never be 'Mummy'. So don't start prattling on about 'heirs' and 'inheritance' because that doesn't matter to me…not anymore."

Emily began storming out of her bedroom, leaving Victor behind to stand there and think on her words. But he caught her off guard. As she walked by him, he suddenly grabbed her by her shoulder, turning her round to face him, a glisten of anger in his eyes that worried Emily.

"Don't think you're the only person who's lost something precious. You think I'm not sharing the same agony as you? He's my son too. I'll never watch him grow, take his first footsteps, or hear him laugh…I'll never get to be his Daddy."

On that final thought, he let Emily go and walked past her down the stairs towards his study, slamming the door behind him.

She saw him draw his hand across his face as he descended the stairs, knowing he was wiping away the tears that streamed down his face.

"What has happened to us?" she thought, staring at the study door from the landing. She contemplated what was going to happen next with them. Would they try for another baby? Or accept the idea that they'd forever mourn their lost son and never move on?

Emily looked over at the clock on her bedside table. 3 o clock. Just before tea time.

She saw an opportunity and grasped it, slamming the bedroom door behind her, walking down the staircase furiously and grabbing hold of her light blue coat, matching hat and white gloves, walked out of the front door, shutting it fiercely enough so Victor knew she had left the house. He would see her anyway, the only window in his study showed the village square. She crossed that window; glancing out of the corner of her eye to see Victor leaning over his desk, head in his hands.

He caught sight of her just as she looked away and left his sight, so he had seen her but he didn't know where she was going.

Emily knew the church would be empty, spare an odd village member or two, praying for a lost loved one or confessing to Pastor Lee. She was hoping it would be completely empty, that she would have some privacy. She was lucky. As she struggled to pull open the heavy wooden doors, she popped her head through the space and saw no one in sight.

She smiled inside and made her way in, closing the doors behind her, and catching sight of the perfect space to sit and pray. The second pew from the front on the left hand side. Her favourite spot to share with Victor. She slid in to the pew, took her seat and removed her hat and gloves, placing them next to her. Hands clasped together in prayer, Emily leaned forward and balanced herself against the pew in front, closing her eyes as she started her telepathic message.

There was silence throughout, as Emily prayed for an impossible miracle.


	7. Middle: Chapter Three

**Middle: Chapter Three.**

His life may have been short and taken away from him too early, but thankfully there was the afterlife. A limit-less opportunity for all to enjoy what they missed in their first life.

Granted, there were some limits. Like they were unable to smell a fresh new budding flower, hot food cooking on the stove and feel the sunlight on their face. But they had the little things. The sight of a child playing. Being reunited with their loved ones, who were taken too soon from them. Or, quite simply, a little red ball.

Aside from his master, that was what he missed the most, but thankfully Miss Plum was able to supply him with one. And little Scraps was delighted! A red ball, all for himself. His day had been made.

It was another day down in the Land of the Dead. The skeletons came to the pub, knowing they could drink their body weight in ale without damaging any major organs – anymore! The band played from beginning to end, taking requests – slow and melancholy, or vibrant and energetic, with Bonejangles taking the lead all through the night. The pub was alive each night and Miss Plum was worked off her feet. To keep Scraps from getting trampled on or tripping anyone over during the 'Happy Hours', she threw him his trusty red ball in to the streets and knew he would be content for the next three hours or so. When he was tired, he would come running back to the pub, via the kitchen door and wait patiently outside until the pub was shut and the staff were cleaning up. Then he'd journey to his bed by the still-warm stove and await another day.

So, it all happened again. 5pm, the pub doors were opened and Miss Plum threw out Scraps' favourite toy. He grabbed it with delight, heard her shut the door behind him and started his own play time.

Meanwhile:

"Blast!" Lord Barkis cried, slamming the cupboard door so furiously, it rattled on its rusty hinges. He was a man of the finer things – like expensive wines, rich cheeses and smoked meats. That's what he missed about being alive – the flavour of food. Right now, he was dying for a glass of the Bordeaux 1855 – his favourite wine – with a plate of smoked salmon, drizzled with lemon juice and sprinkled with dill. Oh god, so this was hell! The inability to enjoy food! Barkis hated it with a vengeance. Now he was truly suffering. The cupboards were bare, and the supplies were all gone. And Christopher needed feeding. Not that he was under-fed, it's that he had consumed all of the food that Barkis relished and that made him mad!

But just because he was dead, didn't mean he couldn't eat. His gluttonous mind – whatever was left of it – knew he needed supplies. However, that meant leaving the house, and that meant leaving Christopher…on his own. Barkis stood in the kitchen, one hand on his hip, the other tapping on his chin, in deep thought. Thankfully, it wasn't a Saturday and no search party was coming round for another four days. And hardly anyone walked in these regions of the Land of the Dead – it was a barren piece of land and therefore his perfect hiding spot. This was his opportunity. And he grabbed it.

"You can't understand me, young one, but I'm going. I will be back in good time, with food for me…and you, of course. Just stay with your toys."

Barkis walked out of the door, little Christopher watching him as he went, eyes wide open in curiosity. The man had left him before, he was used to it, so he didn't cry. He merely looked around at his surroundings. Door – floor – table – curtain – window – blanket – and found his favourite toy within reach of him. The little white dog toy with the red collar. He giggled in delight, squealing a little as he shook the toy, as if it would magically come to life. Christopher was easily amused, but something else caught his attention. The yapping of a dog. It was coming from outside the window. Christopher was intrigued, crawling across the bed and reaching up for the window sill, the dog toy still in his hand. Gazing out of the window, he caught sight of…a little white dog with a red collar! He was playing with a red ball, grabbing it in his teeth and tossing it in the air, having his own little game.

Christopher was in awe! He giggled at the sight of the dog, who looked round in amazement at him. The dog – with the ball in his mouth – stared at him, so intrigued, cocking his head in wonder as they looked at each other.

Scraps eventually walked over to the window, looking up as Christopher looked down at him. He jumped up and placed his front paws against the wall, trying to have a closer sniff of the baby. There was something about this child, that made Scraps want to play with him. Christopher was delighted at the sight of this dog, believing he was the toy that he held in his hand. Well, they matched perfectly – aside from the bones. Scraps was a white dog – because of his skeleton frame – with a red collar. It was as if he had sprung forth from the toy and was inviting Christopher to play with him.

Overjoyed at the idea, Christopher started bouncing on the bed with excitement, but losing grip of the toy. It fell gently to the floor outside, right next to Scraps.

Uh oh! Not good!

Without his toy… Christopher started crying. Starting as a gurgle and then proceeding to a full-on tantrum, he wailed as loud as he could, bouncing up and down on the bed in protest. Scraps didn't like it. Though his ear drums disappeared a long time ago, he still hated the piercing scream this baby made. He didn't like it. But he knew exactly what to do.

It happened when Victor was growing up as a five year old boy, whenever his mother or the nanny made him cry, Scraps was there to comfort him. He merely grabbed hold of Victor's favourite toy, scuttled over to him and dropped it by his feet, wagging his tail gladly. That always cheered Victor up – the sight of his loving companion and his favourite toy. It was him that made Victor's childhood a lot more tolerable and easy-going. Though it all came crashing down the day that Scraps was found in his bed, and Victor realised he wasn't breathing.

And so, Scraps sought to repeat the past as little Christopher continued to cry over his toy. He had tossed aside his red ball and started sniffing the little toy that the baby had dropped.

Oh my! Something very familiar with this toy! Something about the smell! It was familiar…very recognisable…like he knew what it belonged to…or who!

Scraps yapped in excitement! It was his master's scent! But this baby wasn't his master! That was odd. Unless…

Scraps yapped uncontrollably. He may be just a little dog that liked to eat, sleep and play, but he also heard things. He was present on the day when the pub announced Emily was pregnant, when she gave birth and when the baby tragically disappeared. He had joined the search parties, the groups of skeletons and zombies that gathered every Saturday, including Lord Hunter. He was considered the leader of the group, as it was his grandson they were searching for.

But the baby had his master's scent, and the only way that was possible was if he was his master's son! Scraps could hardly contain his excitement. He yapped so uncontrollably that he almost forgot Christopher was still crying.

He had to devise a plan – a plan to get the baby out of the house and back to the pub with him. The sun was disappearing over the horizon, which meant the pub would close soon and Miss Plum would be searching for him. The perfect opportunity. Scraps turned back to Christopher. He looked down, saw his toy and picked it up in his mouth. Christopher saw this, and his crying slowly ceased. Scraps had to figure a way in to the house, or a way to get Christopher out.

He looked around to see what options he had, and he spotted one immediately. The front door! A simple wooden door, but one that had been on its hinges for years and years, and its wear and tear was starting to show. The wood was rotting away and the hinges were rusty. There was the perfect little hole at the bottom of the door, which had rotten away in to a sort-of triangle shape, big enough for Scraps head to fit through.

Scraps immediately ran over to the hole in the door, toy still in his mouth and poked his head through, looking around. Christopher was to his right, the bed he was standing on immediately in sight. He saw Scraps head and thought it was hilarious! He started laughing.

Well, it was better than crying.

Scraps wriggled through, his body fitting perfectly through the hole in the door, and he turned to Christopher who was now pulling away from the window sill and sitting back on the bed. This part was going to be tricky. How to get the baby down from the bed without hurting him. The bed was quite a particular height, even if Christopher climbed do himself, there'd be a considerable distance between him and the floor. Too much distance!

Scraps dumped the toy on the floor, having an idea. Beside the bed was a table and single wooden chair. He leaped over to the chair, eyeing up one of its legs and cocked his head slightly, taking the leg in his mouth. Using all the strength he had in his little skeleton body, Scraps tugged on the leg and starting pulling the chair out from under the table. Little by little, it edged its way across the floor until it was positioned perfectly beside the bed. All he had to do was crawl across the bed, gently lower himself on to the seat of the chair and then lower himself to the floor. The chair was now a stepping stone for the baby, a halfway point between the bed and the floor so he wouldn't hurt himself. Hopefully he would figure out exactly what to do.

Scraps had considered a somewhat easier option – running back to the pub and fetching Miss Plum, but he ignored it. The pub would still be busy and she'd be unable to pay any attention to him. By the time he fetched her and returned to the baby, he could be missing. Scraps knew he had been kidnapped, and he was concerned the captor would return soon.

That's what made him yap to the baby, encouraging him and ordering him to use the chair, and follow him back to the pub, where Miss Plum could see him for herself.

The baby was smarter than you could give credit to him. Within minutes of Scraps placing the chair near him, he crawled across the bed and gripping on to the blankets, slowly lowered himself on to the chair, feet first. He used the back of the chair to balance himself, before he glanced down at Scraps and chose to take the next step. He kneeled down on the chair, preparing himself, gripping the edge of the seat and slowly lowering his little legs over the chair, the floor in sight.

Scraps was beyond relieved! He had caught on with the idea, and he was now safely approaching the floor, his toes just centimetres away. He landed safely and gracefully on to the floor, gripping the legs of the chair so he could stand up properly.

'What to do now?' Scraps wondered. He had to get him back to the pub and Miss Plum. The baby was just about able to walk, and the pub was quite a distance away. But Scraps knew how important this would be for his master, so he was prepared to go the extra mile. He started jumping on his feet, to keep Christopher's attention focused on him. He grabbed the toy from the ground, and instantly Christopher was hooked. The dog had his toy, and he wanted it. So Scraps took this opportunity and started heading for the front door, hoping the baby would follow. It took a few moments for Christopher to catch on to what the dog was doing, but eventually he followed, taking tiny steps away from the chair.

Scraps headed for the door, squeezing through the gap once more, poking his head back through to make sure the baby followed. Christopher was right behind him and he instantly got down on to the floor and began crawling through the hole in the door, all the time focused on the toy in Scraps mouth.

Result! They were out of the house! Now they had to make their way back to the pub. This was the tricky bit. The pub was quite a distance away. It took mere minutes for Scraps to return there normally, but he had two extra legs and therefore he was faster. Plus, the baby hadn't mastered walking yet, so on the odd occasion he fell back on his bottom, before attempting to walk again.

But Scraps was a patient dog, and with his master on his mind, he focused on getting back to the pub, with the baby in tow.

Meanwhile, at the pub:

"Last orders, gentlemen! Last orders!" Miss Plum cried, ringing the bell frantically. On her words, floods of skeletons and living dead came swarming round the bar, thirsty for another pint.

"Easy gentlemen, I've only got two hands!" she cried as they shouted their orders. She thanked goodness she was dead already, otherwise this shift would kill her. Who knew the dead loved to drink so much! Well, for the past five years, she had discovered just how much. Every night – except for Sundays – the pub was swarming with the same punters, all dying for their favourite drink. Now she had Mayhew to assist her behind the bar, half of the job was taken off her shoulders, and she was incredibly thankful for it. Paul's cockroaches never helped, and the kitchen staff were far too busy cooking up meals to help her out. Their establishment was the best – and the only – in the Land of the Dead.

Twenty minutes later, she checked the time on the wall and gave the final warning.

"Ten minutes before closing. Ten minutes! Finish your drinks, and head off home. We've all got somewhere to go" she yelled to everyone.

"Darling!" she heard someone call her. "Darling!"

She knew it was Mayhew. He was the only member of the living dead that could get away with calling her that, considering they were an item.

"Yes love?" she called back. Mayhew was back in the kitchens, placing used dinner dishes on the counters, ready for the washing up, when he poked his head through the door that separated the kitchens from the bar.

"That dog is back! He's outside yapping away."

"Well, let him in love!" She glanced back at the clock. "Mind you, he is a little early. Maybe he got bored with that ball" she wondered. Collecting the last of the tankards and glasses, she headed back to the kitchen, placing them next to the dishes. She could hear Scraps barking from outside, eager to get in.

"Alright love" she called, hurrying over to the door and reaching for the handle. "You're early you know" she said, opening the door.

"Did you get bor…" she began, but was cut off when she saw who was with him. A baby?!

"Mayhew!" she called out. "Come look at this!"

"What is it?" he asked, approaching Miss Plum from behind and looking over her shoulder. He instantly saw the baby and gasped in shock.

"What on earth?" he said. "Get them in!"

"He's…he's…" Miss Plum stuttered, as Scraps ran inside with a toy in his mouth. Mayhew let him run inside and walked past Miss Plum, scooping the baby up in his arms and setting him down on the kitchen counter, in a space free from plates and glasses.

"What on earth is a baby – a living baby – doing with Scraps?!" Miss Plum screeched, as she shut the door behind her, her words grabbing the attention of the kitchen staff. They all turned around from their usual duties and saw what they were talking about. A little baby, dressed in a dirty blue outfit, shoes missing off his feet, was sitting on the counter – and he was alive!

"A living baby?" they asked. "Are you sure?"

Miss Plums face said it all.

"Look at him!" she cried.

"You sure it's a boy?!"

"He's wearing blue!"

"Where did he come from?"

"Scraps found him."

"Where? How?"

Everyone was crowding around the baby like he was a museum exhibit, and they never shut up asking questions, until Mayhew interjected.

"He looks familiar to me."

Everyone went silent.

"Pardon?"

"He looks familiar" he repeated. "I've seen those eyes before."

"How come?"

"I just have. Someone I know has eyes identical to those. I…" Mayhew paused. "Hang on…how long has it been since Victor and Emily's child disappeared?"

His question brought the room to a standstill. It was as if, all of a sudden, they had thought the same thing as him.

"No…it can't be…"

"Could be…he looks old enough."

"The colour of his hair though…it matches Victors"

"And his eyes!" Mayhew erupted. "I knew it! He has his father's eyes!"

"And Emily's nose!" Miss Plum screeched.

At that point, Scraps yelped from the floor. He had dropped the toy to the floor, waiting for someone to pick it up. Miss Plum reached down and grabbed it in her hands, inspecting it closely. A soft white dog with a red collar. The baby instantly reached out for it, eagerness and want in his eyes.

"Give it to him, go on" Mayhew said. Miss Plum held it forward, allowing Christopher to grab hold of it and smile gleefully. He was instantly happy.

"But how do we know for sure he's Victor and Emily's boy?"

Again, Miss Plum pulled a face laced with sarcasm.

"He's a boy, got Victor's eyes, Emily's nose, Victor's dark hair. Not to mention he's got a toy identical to Scraps, he looks the right age…oh yes, and he's alive!"

"But how did he get down here? He didn't crawl out of his cot!"

"Elder Gutknecht said that he had been stolen from his cot. The nanny saw a shadowy figure standing over him before snatching him away" Mayhew said, watching the baby intently.

"How long ago was this?"

"About a year ago…this month, actually. He was born February last year and was snatched one night in April. He's been missing for a year" Mayhew realised.

"And the search parties are still looking?" the cook asked.

"Indeed. Every Saturday for the past year, and with no success."

"Which means that wherever he was hiding, was away from obvious human contact."

"Maybe his captor held on to him? Kept him away from sight whenever the search parties came round?"

"Quite. But we're missing the main point here. We've found their baby. He's alive! We have to return him to them. And fast!" Mayhew ordered.


	8. End: Chapter One

**End: Chapter One:**

The Land of the Living:

11:50pm.

The Van Dort house was completely silent, except for the ticking of the grandfather clock. Everyone was comfortable and asleep in their beds. Except for Patricia the maid. After what happened the night of Christopher's disappearance, she felt she owed it to the Van Dort's to stay working for the household. Plus, she had nowhere else to go. No immediate family, no husband – not anymore – and not a huge income to sustain an independent living on. Thankfully, Victor and Emily were kind enough to allow her to stay, so long as she joined Harriet and Alfred in the duties of the house.

Tonight, she couldn't sleep. Why, she had no idea. She sat upright in bed, hoping she would nod off. It was nearly midnight now, and Patricia knew if she didn't get a proper nights rest, she'd be like the living dead in the morning, moping around the house with bags under her eyes. She needed a book, and now! She'd finished all of hers, so the only option was to visit the Van Dort's library. They wouldn't mind, she'd put it back in the morning before they had breakfast. Simple!

Climbing out of bed, grabbing the lit candle stick from her bedside table and carefully making her way to the library, she tip-toed across the marble floor so her footsteps were inaudible. Her bedroom, alongside Alfred and Harriett's, was on the ground floor and only a small corridor away from the main hall of the house where the library was.

The fire had died an hour ago but its heat still radiated as Patricia found one of the bookshelves and decided on a random book.

"Great Expectations" she whispered to herself, seeing the title illuminated by the single candle flame she held in her hand.

"Hmm, hopefully a chapter will do" she added, heading back to her room.

Then there came a knocking at the front door.

"What?" Patricia said to herself. Though the knocking was more like a banging! A very loud, urgent banging! Patricia wasn't sure what to do – wake the Van Dort's up? Call Albert or Harriett? Or leave it?

"Victor! Emily!" a female voice from behind the door shouted.

"Ssh, be quiet. Everyone's asleep. It's gone midnight" came another voice. That was a man's voice. A man and a woman, seeking the Van Dort's at this hour? This was strange. Patricia didn't need to think any more about the issue of answering the door.

Just a moment later, the main bedroom door opened on the upstairs landing and out stormed Victor, tying his dark blue dressing gown round his waist and squinting his eyes. Emily followed him just seconds later, her wavy hair and pale blue silk dressing gown flowing beautifully behind her.

"What on earth?" she moaned, watching Victor descend the stairs, as she rubbed her eyes.

"Patricia?" Victor asked, pointing at the front door, waiting for an answer.

"It just started, sir. It's a man and a woman. They know your names" she answered.

"Alright" Victor said, rubbing his eye as he undid the locks around the door.

"Victor? Are you there?" said the man's voice from the other side of the door.

Victor halted. He knew that voice anywhere.

"Mayhew?!" he said. Victor looked back at Emily, who was now at the foot of the stairs, eyes wide in wonder and confusion.

"Yes! Open up! We need to get in! Someone might see us!" the woman's voice cried.

"Miss Plum?" Emily said, walking to the front door.

"Emily?" Miss Plum cried. "Let us in! It's very urgent!"

"Oh no" Victor sighed, looking at Emily. She obviously knew what he was thinking because she followed his gaze over to Patricia.

"Patricia, would you mind going in to the kitchen please?" Emily tried to get her away.

"Why?" she wondered.

"Um…our friends…I think they would appreciate some privacy with us…they're…rather different. Their appearance, I mean…it might shock you" Emily warned.

"I don't mind. I won't judge" Patricia said.

"Emily, if we don't let them in soon, our neighbours might get suspicious, look out their window and…uh…see" Victor warned, his eyes raging with urgency.

"Let them in" Patricia insisted. Emily sighed. She turned back to Victor and nodded.

"But don't say we didn't warn you" she turned back to Patricia.

Now Patricia was intrigued. What was so 'different' about these friends?

Victor unlocked and opened the door, and in came two figures. One tall man with a hunchback and a short plump woman. He was wearing a tattered navy blue winter coat, a small top hat, and faded black trousers and shoes. The woman was wearing a cooks uniform, a floor-length brown skirt, with a short-sleeved white blouse on top and a dirty kitchen apron. Her hair was black, like thin curls of wire protruding from her scalp. That's not what shocked Patricia.

The woman's ribs were showing through her blouse, her eyes were sunken and yellow. The mans coat had huge thick dents in them…how? Their skin was…blue?! And he man was holding something wrapped in a white blanket. Patricia could've sworn she saw it move!

They rushed inside and Victor immediately slammed the door behind them, locking a few bolts and securing them. The woman approached Emily and embraced her in a loving hug.

"Oh my dear!" she cried, grinning a smile that stretched for ear to ear.

"Thank goodness" the man sighed, turning to Victor and shaking his hand. Victor smiled in return, glancing over at Patricia. The man caught his eyes and followed his gaze.

"Patricia?" Victor asked.

"How…they're…um…" Patricia stumbled over her words, not sure how to form them.

"I know what it looks like, but these are our friends. We've known them since before we were married."

"We like to think we brought you two together" Miss Plum smiled and joked. Patricia could hardly believe this.

"If you'll excuse me…I'm just…uh…" then Patricia fainted. Slowly falling and landing on the carpet with a soft thud. Everyone was silent for a moment.

"I knew this would happen" Victor sighed.

"Let's just put her in the chair" Emily said, calmly walking over to Patricia and scooping her up and dragging her across the carpet to the nearest armchair by the fire. Victor ran closely behind her, helping her place Patricia in a comfortable position.

"She'll be fine" Victor said. They walked back to Mayhew and Miss Plum.

"Now…what are you doing here? And this time of the night" Victor asked.

"We couldn't wait til morning. We had to visit you tonight, we knew what this would mean to you" Mayhew explained.

"A surprise visit in the middle of the night?" Victor wondered.

"It's more than that" Miss Plum said, a small eager smile appearing on her face.

"This was important. Everyone downstairs agreed. They send their love by the way" Mayhew said.

"I don't understand. I am thrilled to see you both here, truly I am. But it's the middle of the night and…well…someone could've seen you. Patricia will be fine, she's seen worst things and she won't tell a soul" Emily said.

"On the other hand, it's not the first time this village has seen the living dead" Victor noted, smiling at the memory. Emily joined him in a cheeky smile.

"We knew it was a risk, but we came anyway. We've got some good news." Mayhew smiled.

"Good news?" Emily asked, folding her arms across her chest.

" _Very_ good news" he added.

"It couldn't wait til morning" Miss Plum smiled.

"What? What is it?" Emily wondered.

"Something very special happened tonight. Scraps found…" Miss Plum began.

"Scraps?" Victor smiled. "How is he?"

"Ecstatic, especially now. He found something that belongs to you. Or rather…someone."

Emily's eager smile dropped. At the sound of 'someone', she immediately knew what they meant. Her heart dropped in excitement and anticipation, tears slowly forming in her eyes. Her heart began racing, as she turned round to Victor who shared the same expression as her. He approached her slowly, placing an arm around her shoulder.

And that was when they noticed the bundled white blanket in Mayhew's arms. They saw its shape, its form…and the fact it was moving. Very slowly, and it made a gurgling noise.

"Victor" she whispered.

"I know" he replied, barely whispering.

Emily pulled away from her husband, her arms now by her side as she walked towards Mayhew. He approached her too, bringing forward the bundle in his arms. Emily wasn't sure what to do next, she felt numb all over. She tried to control her breathing, before she passed out like Patricia. She took a deep breath, and lifted a hand to the blanket. She lightly tugged on the blanket, pulling it towards her…to reveal a head! A baby's head. The baby was sleeping peacefully, its breathing light and airy. He looked so peaceful, his beautiful long, dark eyelashes fluttering ever so gently in his sleep, and his little fingers flexing and curling as he dreamed.

Emily moaned in shock, her hands racing to her face as tears gently streamed down her cheeks, as a wide-eyed Victor embraced her again, just in case she fainted.

"We knew who he was. He has your eyes, Victor." Mayhew said.

"My baby" Emily said.

"Christopher" Victor whispered. Mayhew took a step forward, extending his arms to Emily. She quickly wiped away her tears and extended her arms, slowly taking the baby in to her arms. She gasped with delight as the little boy fell in to his rightful place, in his mother's hold. He gently stirred in his sleep before his eyes fluttered open, taking in his surroundings and immediately laying his eyes on Emily.

She waited to see what would happen next, if the baby would cry or smile or…she didn't know. To her relief and delight, the little boy stared at her with his big dark eyes and smiled, reaching forward a hand in an attempt to touch Emily. She leaned her head down and let his little fingers graze her cheek and nose, like he was recalling his first memories of her.

It worked! Christopher smiled and giggled at Emily, like he had realised he was now home in his rightful place. With his Mum and Dad.

"My boy" Victor gasped from behind Emily, looking down at him and reaching forward to his hand. Christopher saw his Dad and giggled, trying to reach him too. When Christopher reached Victor, he grabbed hold of his little finger of his outstretched hand and held on tight, gripping it strongly, willing to never let go.

"Our baby…He's come home" Emily said, amongst the tears of joy. She looked up at Victor, before bursting in to tears and uncontrollable sobs. Victor joined with her, breaking down in to tears and kissing her deeply. She returned the kiss and they both looked down at their son, who watched his parents with cheeky and eager eyes.

"This can't be a dream…this feels too real" Emily said to Mayhew and Miss Plum.

"It's not a dream, my dear. Scraps found him last night" Miss Plum explained.

"Found him? Where was he found?" Victor asked urgently, wiping away a single tear.

"We don't know. Scraps has a daily ritual of running off with his ball when it's busy at the pub. Saves him getting under our feet. When we shut the pub tonight and called him in, we found him with Christopher by his side…and he had this, in his hand."

Miss Plum reached in to her apron pocket and retrieved the small dog toy that Christopher had held on to. She handed it over to Victor, whose jaw dropped in astonishment.

"We wondered where that got to. It's his favourite toy, he never went to bed without it near him. He would always cry and scream until we found it." Victor was on the brink of tears once more.

"Thank god he had a piece of us with him when he was gone" he sighed.

"I still don't understand. The search parties were always looking for him, why…" Emily asked.

"I wish we could answer that, darling" Miss Plum sighed. "We have no idea where he has been or how long for. We're just thankful that he's alive and well."

"How? If he was on his own, how did he not starve? He was only a few months old when he was…" Emily held back the horrific memory of the night he disappeared, took a deep breath and carried on.

"…someone or something must have been feeding him. Someone must have kept him alive, without telling anyone where he was" she finished.

"Patricia said he was snatched by a dark shadowy figure. Whoever or whatever that thing was, obviously had a heart to keep him fed and alive. There's not a single scratch, cut or bruise on him. He was obviously taken care of" Victor added.

"Which is what baffles us" Miss Plum said.

"I've always had an idea about who took him. We both though it. But that person doesn't possess a heart, a soul or any good intentions. If he was the one who snatched him, he would've done the worst and…" Victor imagined it all happening. His little boy, alone and scared down in the Land of the Dead, his life being snatched from him by the madman he envisaged. How mad it made him! He swallowed his raging emotions and took a deep breath.

"If it was him that took our boy, why is he still alive?"

"Unless he had a change of heart?" Emily suggested.

"No!" Victor immediately interrupted, shaking his head. "That man never has a change of heart. Once he knows what he wants, he does everything in his power to take it, no matter what the cost. He's done it once before" Victor looked down at his wife.

"He'd easily do it again."

"As revenge?" Mayhew thought aloud.

"Possibly" Miss Plum shrugged. "But Lord Barkis hasn't been spotted in the near regions of the Land of the Dead. No one truly knows if he's alive or not. In the years since he arrived downstairs, no one has laid eyes on him."

"Maybe he's hiding?" Victor said. Then Emily spoke up, gently rocking Christopher in her arms, her natural motherly instincts kicking in.

"You know what…right now, I don't care."

Everyone was silent. Emily had thousands of questions and thoughts running wildly in her head…but somehow she ignored them, and looked down at her son. He was looking around, taking in his surroundings. The house, the people, the sights, the smells – everything was new for him. But he didn't cry, or squeal or argue. He simply lay back in mother's arms, comfortable and peaceful.

"I couldn't give a single care in this world if Lord Barkis took him or not. If it was revenge, that's understandable. A life for a life. But let's forget about him, please. At least for tonight, or until we know more. I'm just happy that our baby's home and here, with us. That's all that I care about, Victor. Family reunited."

Victor smiled softly. She was right. Regardless of what had happened, what was important was the here and now. Their son was home, safe and sound, and back where he rightfully belonged. His thoughts of Lord Barkis instantly vanished, and his growing anger was replaced with relaxing bliss.

"Of course" he smiled, leaning in for another kiss. He drew his attention back to Miss Plum and Mayhew.

"Will you stay a bit longer? For some tea, and a bite to eat? I don't know how we could ever repay you for what you've done." He invited them towards the kitchen.

"I can't say no to that, love" Miss Plum grinned.

"I'll get Patricia to boil some water" Emily smiled, then turning to see Patricia still slumped in her chair, fast asleep and breathing softly.

"Oh yes" Emily sighed. "I'd forgotten."

Meanwhile, downstairs:

Lord Barkis was returning from his errands, bags in arms as his wound through the streets of the underworld. He hated having to hide; no one appreciated seeing his face now, not since the wedding, the night his past had been revealed and he had paid for his sins – in death. He was turning round a corner by the main square, just feet away from the Ball and Socket Pub…when his ears turned to a curious conversation. He caught sight of the postman skeleton by the front door of the pub with some letters and a parcel in his hand, talking to one of the kitchen staff, who was still wearing their stained white uniform.

"Did she say where she was going?" the postman asked.

"The Land of the Living" the kitchen skeleton answered.

"Why at this time of the night?"

"Urgent business. Couldn't wait til morning. I might as well tell you – they found a baby."

Lord Barkis froze on the spot, his arms nearly dropping the bags of shopping. He acted casually, finding a nearby street corner where he concealed himself and listened carefully.

"A living baby!"

"No! Where?"

"They don't know. The dog Scraps found him, brought him back here at closing time. But, do you remember our corpse bride?"

"Yes, Emily…" at that moment, the postman seemed to piece it all together.

"No! You don't think it's their baby? What was his name? Christopher?"

"They're sure of it. He's got dark hair and eyes just like his father, and Emily's nose. And he was alive! It's too much of a coincidence."

"So Miss Plum has gone up there now, with the baby?"

"Yes. To reunite him with his mother and father. Her and Mayhew. Isn't it marvellous? Do you want me to take her deliveries?"

"I'll return later when she gets back. That way I can hear the good news" the postman said. "But until then, I won't tell a soul." With that the postman departed and the kitchen staff walked inside the pub, locking the door behind them.

Lord Barkis dropped his bags of shopping, a rage burning inside him that he hadn't felt since that Everglot girl said her family had no money.

He was fuming. Never had he been more furious in his life. That wretched dog had found the boy and lead him away. And now he was back upstairs, with the Van Dort's by now.

Oh, they must be overjoyed to see their baby, he thought. But supposedly, this was what he had been waiting for. A chance to strike back at the Van Dort's for all they did to him. They had suffered, now they had hope. And this was the perfect time to snatch their glory away from them.

He always believed in the saying of 'revenge is a dish best served cold'. Well, time had passed, pain had been felt, and the 'dish' was now stone cold. It seemed appropriate to exact his revenge.

And this time, there would be no holding back.


	9. End: Chapter Two

**End: Chapter Two:**

4:30am.

Patricia sat in silence, her tea cup firmly set between her hands. The tea was probably ice cold by now, but she hadn't noticed. She was too focused on the couple sitting opposite her. They could feel her stare upon them, but Miss Plum and Mayhew were comfortable, regardless of the looks they were receiving. It wasn't the first time the living had come in to contact with the living dead. They kept distracting themselves by engaging in conversation with Victor and Emily. Christopher had fallen asleep in Emily's arms – much to her delight – and he continued to sleep as everyone sat and talked over tea.

Mayhew and Miss Plum knew they had to return to the Land of the Dead before sunrise. But the present time was so precious and they were having too much fun – despite the odd looks Patricia was giving them.

When she had come round from fainting, Victor had walked her in to the kitchen, sat her down and explained everything to her. How they were friends, how Emily and he had known them previously – but he chose not to mention that Emily was dead at the time. He merely said that they met the couple when he and Emily first met. He spared any large details, because he didn't want to lie too much to Patricia.

She had agreed to remain calm, and then proceeded to put on the tea. Minutes later, Emily entered the kitchen with a sleeping baby in her arms and the deceased couple slowly followed her. Patricia had remained calm, smiled politely and accepted Miss Plums hand to shake. Despite the blue skin, she was particularly warm and she was always smiling.

Of course, Patricia had delighted over the sight of little Christopher. Considering the guilt she had carried on her shoulders for the past year, this was a breath of fresh air. Their son was finally home and Patricia was ecstatic to share in the glory of it.

Now, here they were. Sitting round the kitchen table, tea cups in front of them, chatting away – all except Patricia. She continued to stare.

"Dawn is approaching, my dear. We'll have to leave soon" Miss Plum said to Emily, taking another sip of her tea. It was stone cold now, but she enjoyed the gesture of drinking tea like she was still alive and breathing.

"I wish you could stay longer" Emily pleaded.

"Us too. But rules are rules, and Elder Gutknecht does not like it when rules are broken, particularly between the living and the dead." Mayhew explained.

"So, you cannot be seen during the daytime?" Victor puzzled.

"Indeed. The night time is acceptable, for some reason. The darkness conceals us, and no one is around at that time. It is a safer option" Mayhew said.

"I suppose" Emily sighed, looking down at Christopher and smiling at the sight of him.

"Back in his mothers' arms. Where he belongs" Miss Plum nodded firmly. Then she wondered:

"Does he have anywhere to sleep? A cot or cradle?"

Emily's smile dropped at the thought. She hadn't thought about that for a second.

"Oh…I'd almost forgotten…we…his cot was too badly damaged when he disappeared, we had to throw it out."

"True, but…" he began. He glanced over at Emily, smiling weakly.

"There is another option. Shortly after we moved in to this house, my mother insisted that everything that belonged to me was escorted over. To make some room for more leisurely activities they wanted to take up. And when she said everything, I mean everything! Books, clothes, paintings, furniture, photo albums and old memorabilia. Including my baby items. Mother knew she wasn't having another child, but she was resourceful and hated the idea of throwing out a decent and expensive cot, so she placed it in the attic. It was moved over here with the rest of my possessions during our honeymoon. It's in the attic right now. We'll fetch it down, dust it off and Christopher can have it." Victor nodded, smiling. Emily was in blissful shock.

"Really?" she beamed. But then she thought. "What about clothes? Toys? I threw it all out when he'd…gone. I was too upset, I wasn't thinking straight."

"And thankfully, I salvaged the stuff before it was lost forever, and put it with the rest of the stuff in the attic. They toys are in perfect condition, but he will need new clothes, he's grown a lot."

Emily was stunned, silent in her shock. How amazing was her husband?! And yet she wondered: "Why?"

Victor took his time to respond.

"Because…he'd barely been in our lives for two months. Then he was taken and all of a sudden it was like he had never existed. Like we were wiping the slate clean. You started throwing out his belongings and I couldn't bear the sight of it. So I got hold of them before they were taken away and stashed them away in the attic. So even if he never returned, a part of him would always be with us. Even if we had more children, a small part of him would've always remained with us. I hope you…" before Victor could finish his sentence, Emily had planted her lips on his in a passionate embracing kiss.

"You understand" Victor finished when she pulled away.

"Could you be more perfect?" Emily smiled.

"I can try" Victor teased, kissing her once more.

"And what about food? What will he eat?" Miss Plum asked. That was when Patricia broke from her 'spell'.

"I can cook some vegetables and mash them up for him? That's what my parents did for me, and what I did for my daughter. Carrots, potatoes, peas. And I can go to the market later today to collect some more fruits" she said.

"Alright" Emily nodded, surprised to see that Patricia had finally spoken up. "Sounds like a plan. But he's asleep now, so we don't have to worry until he wakes. We'll have to get the cot down now. As much as I love holding him in my arms, I need my sleep too."

"Alright then. I'll give you a hand and then we must be on our way, really" Mayhew said, rising from his seat.

"Thank you" Victor smiled, getting up from his chair and directing Mayhew through to the hallway, in the direction of the attic upstairs. Leaving the women together, Miss Plum smiled at Patricia who weakly smiled back.

"Sorry about earlier" Patricia murmured.

"About what?" Miss Plum asked.

"When I…when you arrived. I should have been more polite and understanding. Rather than…faint like that."

Emily smiled weakly as she gazed back at Christopher. Miss Plum giggled slightly.

"Oh dearie, it doesn't matter. I've had worse greetings since becoming like this." Miss Plum gestured to the entirety of her body, indicating the blue skin, bones and decaying clothes.

"Really?" Patricia raised an eyebrow.

"Really. The first time I appeared to a living being, they ran away from me. Started screaming 'the dead walk the Earth', running from their houses and in to the streets. I was worried they would start fighting back. Some of them had weapons."

"There was more than one person?"

"It was the whole village. Every living person, including the children. I only came up for a celebration." That was when Emily's heart dropped. She knew what Miss Plum was talking about. Her wedding.

"What was the celebration?" Patricia asked. At that point, Emily looked directly at Miss Plum with wide eyes, shaking her head ever so slightly. Miss Plum saw. Emily didn't want her nanny knowing she was a regenerated corpse.

"Just a family birthday party" Miss Plum shrugged. Emily smiled in return, a virtual thank you. Miss Plum winked in return, Patricia didn't notice.

"The cot is down and in our room. I'll dust it off soon" Victor said, making an entrance back in to the kitchen.

"And we _really_ must be going, dear" Mayhew appeared behind Victor, urgency in his voice. "Dawn is on the horizon and I've seen a few people already out on the streets."

"Who's out at this time of the morning?" Miss Plum wondered.

"The market stalls mostly. And a few residents like to take a morning stroll, they like the fresh air" Emily explained, gently rocking Christopher.

"Never-the-less, I hate to spoil the joy, but we really must go. Elder Gutknecht won't be too happy if we cause any attention" Mayhew rubbed his hands together.

"Oh, what would it do?" Miss Plum joked. "It's happened once already, how badly can they overreact this time?"

Emily saw the funny side, considering the last time the dead were amongst the living was her (failed) wedding. Victor saw her smirk, and casually smiled in return, knowing what she was thinking about. But his smile was interrupted, by a shrill scream nearby. His smile turned to worry as everyone heard the ear-piercing cry.

"What on Earth?" he mumbled to himself. Miss Plum's smile dropped, Emily looked around trying to locate the scream. Her head turned towards their front door.

"It's coming from outside" she said.

On her words, Victor and Mayhew ran out the kitchen to their front door, stopping short and looking past the curtain to see outside. It was still fairly dark, the sky filled with dark blues and passionate pinks and purples but the sun was slowly peaking above the horizon, a gentle way of saying the day was about to begin.

Miss Plum and Emily – still holding Christopher – came running up behind the men, trying to see what was going on outside.

"Sounds like someone's in trouble" Miss Plum commented.

"What is it? What's going on?" Emily asked, placing a hand on Victors shoulder.

Victor was frozen on the spot, his eyes glued to the horror he saw unveiling before him. He had seen so many strange and unusual things – the living dead, corpses reanimating back to life, talking spiders and maggots, skeleton animals and magical ravens eggs that transported you between two worlds – but this was new.

And it was the most horrific thing he'd ever seen.

 **Authors note:**

Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been meaning to post this chapter for ages, but I started a new job in the summer and I was swamped down with it.

Hope you enjoy it! Next chapter coming soon! :D


	10. End: Chapter Three

**End: Chapter Three:**

Outside on the streets of the village, a young woman was seen. Victor recognised her as the greengrocer's daughter, Rose. Her father – Peter – was severely ill, and she was currently running his shop whilst he recovered. Victor recalled him being taken away by the doctor just a week ago, having collapsed from a supposed heart attack. Rose was standing against the wall of her fathers shop, a crate of potatoes and carrots at her feet. Her eyes were wide open, hands to her face as she screamed in terror at the sight unfolding before her.

She was looking at the centre of the village square, at the infamous stone horse statue. Staring at the base of it, she watched as something was rising from beneath the streets cobbles. It was like watching a creature hatching from an egg – as the cobbles began to crack and split as the creature slowly emerged in to the world.

The creature was definitely human. It was covered in the tattered remnants of a black jacket and white shirt, showing the rotting bones of its arms and ribs underneath. As it rose from the ground – arms and hands first – its head slowly appeared, its glowing eyes taking in the scene around it. A few village residents were running away in horror, dropping their boxes of fruits, vegetables and bread rolls as they went. The young woman continued to scream, as the creatures torso and legs were finally revealed, and it stood tall and proud, its eyes glowing with fury, anger, revenge and hate.

Victor continued to watch from the window, as Lord Barkis – in all of his dead and immortal glory – stood tall and demonic, searching for his prey. He was shrouded in some sort of dark, ebony black mist that rose from the ground and covered him like a cloak, swirling around his limbs like snakes.

"It's him. He's here" Victor whispered, pulling away from the curtains in case he was immediately seen. Emily didn't need to ask what he meant. She knew who Victor was talking about. Her eyes filled with fear and tears, as a shaking hand gently rose to her face as she covered her mouth in horror.

"Oh god" she trembled.

"What is it?" Patricia asked from behind, trying to push through the see the scene at the window.

"Patricia, take Emily and Christopher upstairs and lock yourselves in our bedroom. Use whatever furniture to barricade yourselves in, and don't come out until I say so" Victor gently ordered urgency in his voice.

"Why?" she asked, looking at Miss Plum who was now at the window. "What's going on?" She joined Miss Plum by the curtains and looked out, her breath escaping her body as she saw the tall zombie, slowly looking around the village square.

"Heavens above! It's him!" she cried. "He took Christopher!"

Victor and Emily looked at her in shock. So their suspicions were true.

"I remember it so clearly. Didn't I tell you? A 'dark misty spirit' snatched Christopher away, and look! It's definitely him. The height, the shape, the mist, everything! You must believe me!"

"We believe you" Emily immediately answered, still trembling with fear. "It's alright Patricia, there's no need to worry."

"What we need to worry about is staying safe. So, as I said. Patricia, can you take Emily upstairs to our room and lock…"

"No!" Emily objected. "I'm not locking myself up like a damsel in distress. I'm staying here, with you."

Victor paused, taking a deep breath. He could tell this was going to be tricky, getting Emily to safety. He knew she wouldn't go easily. He looked over to Patricia.

"Can you hold on to Christopher for a second please? Mayhew, Miss Plum, get away from the window before he sees you. And make sure the door is secured" Victor ordered. Patricia gently took Christopher from a bewildered Emily, and walked over to the nearby armchair and sat down with him. Miss Plum and Mayhew pulled away from the curtains and checked the front door, putting any locks and chain in places.

Victor took Emily by the hand and gently led her away from prying ears.

"This is dangerous, Emily. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I know it's dangerous. I know who this man is, remember?"

"But you're not dead anymore. I don't want him laying a single dirty finger on you, or our son."

"Well, I'm your wife and his mother, so if either of you are threatened, I'll do whatever it takes to defend you both. Locking me in the bedroom won't do anything, Victor. For either you or me. Why don't you send Patricia up there with Christopher, and I'll fight alongside you?"

"I just told you why. I don't want you getting hurt."

"That's for me to decide."

"And what if he…" Victor stuttered, this horrific image of Emily going against Lord Barkis – and losing. If he lost her and she was dragged back to the Land of the Dead with _him_ – Victor couldn't even stomach the idea.

"What if he kills you? You can't be reanimated again, you'd be dead – _permanently_!"

"That's a risk I'll have to take. If it means that our son can live peacefully and safely, I will fight to the death to see that happen. Even if he kills me."

"I can't let that happen. Mayhew, Miss Plum and I will fight him but you, Patricia and Christopher _must be safe_." On his last three words, Victor grabbed Emily ferociously by the arm and started heading towards the staircase, leading to their bedroom. But Emily was just as strong as him.

"NO!" she yelled like an immature child, yanking her arm out of Victor grasp.

"Listen to me, Emily. I won't have this behaviour from you. Not when there's a murderer on our doorstep" he yelled back.

At the sound of their raised voices, Miss Plum, Mayhew and Patricia all turned round to see them arguing.

"And I won't have this behaviour from my husband. I am not a child, I am your wife!"

"That man out there is willing to kill anyone and anything in his path to get what he wants."  
"Who says it's me he wants?! He took our son; he's here for Christopher!"

"Hence why you two should stay together."

"Barricaded, in a room? Like that's going to stop him! What happens if he hurts you, and everyone else standing in-between you and me? If he kills you, who's going to stop him getting to Christopher?"

Victor was silent. He never considered what would happen if he died at the hands of Lord Barkis.

"Then I have to take that risk" he sighed.

"I'm not letting you do this without me by your side" she argued silently.

"This isn't a game, Emily."

"I know that" she replied immediately, staring deeply in to his eyes. "You know how far I would go to keep you two safe, why can you not understand it?"

Victor was silent. He stared longingly into her eyes, tears slowly forming in his.

"I understand it, so very much. I share the same fighting spirit as you…but I don't want to see you get hurt."

Emily had heard it before, now she was getting sick of his repetition.

"WHY NOT?!" she yelled.

"Because I can't risk losing you again!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

His voice echoed throughout the house, bringing Emily to complete silence. She watched her husband, staring deeply back at her, with tears slowly pouring down his face. He bowed his head as he placed one hand on her shoulder, and the other cupping her cheek.

"I lost you once. I don't want to lose you again. I can't" he begged.

Emily was in shock. She'd never seen him like this. He was an emotional wreck, and it hurt her inside so much. To see him break down over her – she couldn't deny, she would be the exact same.

As she looked back in to his tear soaked eyes, she truly understood his worry. After her depression hit her when she left him behind for Victoria, she thought she would never be the same again. Now she saw similarities of her in him. The emptiness, the sorrow, the feeling of never knowing true love and happiness again. No one should ever have to go through that pain.

The man she loved was breaking down, piece by piece, in front of her own eyes. She couldn't stand the sight of it. But she couldn't stand the idea of sending him alone out to fight Barkis. It would be like sending a puppy in to a den of hungry lions. She couldn't watch him get torn to shreds; she had to be by his side.

He continued to stare at her, waiting for a reaction. She looked back at him and placed her hand over his that cupped her cheek. A single tear fell from her eye, spilled down her cheek and ran itself over both of their fingers. Like a sign of their union.

She looked back at him and smiled lovingly. He looked confused.

"But you and I both know we are stronger when we are together. Remember our first wedding? Tell me what happened when Lord Barkis arrived" she told him softly.

He took a deep breath, sniffed back a tear and said:  
"He threatened to take Victoria away and kill her. When I faced him, he confronted me with a sword. And we fought. He overpowered me, knocked me to the floor and then…"

The sparkle in Victor's eye told Emily that he knew what she was getting at.

"And then, what?" Emily added.

"Then he thrust the sword at me…but you…you were there" he beamed. "You took the hit…and you saved my life."

"Just like you saved mine. Can't you see Victor, this situation is no different. The same man has come to take away something so precious to us, and we are going to fight. Both of us."

Victor couldn't deny, she was right. It was like history repeating itself. Except now, it wasn't at a wedding and it wasn't Victoria. It was in their home, and it was their son. The son they thought they'd never see again. When it all added up, Emily was right. Victor realised he was an emotional wreck, he wasn't strong enough to fight this enemy by himself. He needed her. He looked away from Emily and over to Patricia, who sat in his armchair, gently rocking Christopher. He had woken up and was looking around him, taking in his surroundings. He looked over to Victor and caught his eye, and a small smile crept on his face. He already recognised his Daddy, even after being gone for the majority of his life so far.

"You're not going to lose him again, are you?" Emily said.

"But what if I lose you?" he said, turning back to face Emily.

She looked him deeply in the eyes, placing her hands on his face so she cupped his jaw and she stroked his face with her thumbs.

"You will never lose me. Even in death, I will still be with you. I will live on in our little boy. He has my nose, remember?"

Victor's tears slowly dried on his cheeks, his crying ceasing. He started feeling more human, less broken.

"What would I do without you?" he asked Emily. She merely smiled and giggled in response.

"I ask myself the same question" she nodded.

"I don't mean to interrupt the moment, you two" Mayhew coughed, still standing by the windows. "But Lord Barkis is heading this way. I think he's seen us."

Both Victor and Emily looked over to Mayhew, dread and fear filling their faces but their strength glowed underneath. This was it. They looked back to one another, taking a deep breath and holding hands firmly.

"Patricia, take Christopher upstairs and barricade yourselves in our bedroom. Do not come out until Emily or I tell you to. Understand?" Victor rushed over to Patricia, who rose from the chair. She nodded firmly.

"Yes sir. Alright" she began heading towards the stairs, but Victor stopped her briefly.

"Just one quick thing" he said. He looked down at Christopher, who looked back at him with his big, dark eyes. Victor gently caressed his little head and leaned down to kiss him lightly on the forehead. Emily watched with loving eyes, a smile beaming on her face.

"Alright. Go on" Victor ordered Patricia. She slowly moved away towards the staircase, Emily placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she repeated Victors gesture, gently brushing a kiss on her babies head.

Seconds later, they heard their bedroom door being locked. Mayhew and Miss Plum turned to them.

"Um, what are we going to do about weapons?"

"Oh" Victor realised. "We have some gardening tools. And there might be a crowbar in the cellar. We used it to open wine crates whenever we had guests."

"That'll do" Emily nodded.

"Uh…" Victor stuttered. "We also have an old rifle, and some bullets."

"We have a shotgun? Where did that come from?" Emily asked, shocked.

"It's an heirloom. My grandfather used it to hunt pheasants and deer when he was my age. When he died, it was given to me on my sixteenth birthday. Never been used for nearly twenty years, though. I don't even know how it works."

"Fetch it! It's better than nothing" Emily ordered. Victor disappeared to the cellar.

"Miss Plum, garden shovel or hunting rifle?" Emily asked.

"I think I'd prefer the shovel, dear" she nodded.

"I'd rather opt for a garden tool" Mayhew added.

"There are two shovels, you can have one each" Emily said. Moments later, Victor reappeared with the shotgun under his arm, the bullet box in his hand and the crowbar in his other hand. He looked to Mayhew and Miss Plum.

"Who's having the shotgun?"

"Me" Emily immediately answered.

"What?"

"I know how to use a shotgun. Father taught me when I was ten. We never killed anything, we just used it for days out and to give the dogs some exercise." She took the shotgun from his grasp, opening the hatch and sliding the bullets in place. She cocked it, looked down its barrel and nodded.

"Mayhew and Miss Plum want the shovels from the garden" she said casually.

"Good, I wanted the crowbar" Victor smiled, lifting it up and grasping it firmly.

"We'll grab the shovels" Miss Plum said.

"Through the kitchen, out the back door. They should be standing against the wall, we planted some daffodils yesterday" Victor said.

Nodding, they disappeared from sight through the kitchen. As they vanished, Emily carefully placed the gun by the front door, throwing of her fluffy slippers and eyeing up her day boots by the umbrella stand. She was not facing her worst enemy in her slippers, it was bad enough she didn't have time to change out of her nightgown. She slipped her boots on, tying up the laces and grabbing the gun again.

Seeing his wife prepare for the battle, Victor undid his dressing gown and threw it on his nearby armchair. Emily stood in awe as she saw he was still wearing his clothes from the day before – black trousers, white shirt, all creased and messy.

"You're not in your pyjamas" she said.

"Nope" he said. "Couldn't be bothered to get changed." He rolled up his sleeves until they were thick bands around his forearms, a single button undone at the top.

"Guess it's a good thing" she noted. "I have to face him in my nightgown" she joked weakly.

"I must say, you still amaze me, Emily" he sighed, watching her hold the gun. He couldn't deny, she looked empowering and – to be honest – desirable.

But the nature of the situation hit Emily hard though. She looked down to see the gun sitting naturally and firmly in her hands, almost like it belonged there. Despite her calm demeanour, she was shaking underneath. Victor could see it; she was scared as much as he was.

He walked over to her, crowbar swinging in his left hand. She kept her focus on her floor, taking a deep breath. As he got closer, he reached out his right hand to her. She saw it, and grabbed it tightly with her left hand, her right grasping the gun. It reassured her that he would remain by her side, just like she would too.

"We defeat him tonight, and we'll be safe. All three of us." Victor reassured her. Emily nodded firmly, a look of hatred, anger and revenge in her eyes.

"This is for everything he has ever done to hurt us. My death, our wedding, and our son. Tonight, he pays for it all. One thing though" Emily looked up to Victor, her dark, angry and hatred fuelled eyes looking back at him, staring in to his soul.

"We must not allow him in our house. We'll fight him on the streets, but he must _never_ cross the boundaries in to our home. He cannot get near Christopher, no matter what."

"Agreed. We'll show him what we're made of" Victor nodded, feeling stronger at his wifes words.

"You and me together" Emily nodded, squeezing his hand.

"Forever and ever" Victor nodded.

"Ready?" Miss Plum interrupted, appearing behind Victor with Mayhew, both of them holding shovels.

"Ready" they said in perfect unison. Taking one last deep breath and letting go of Victors hand, Emily turned to the front door and undid every lock and chain. Her shaking hand took hold of the door handle and slowly turned it open. The cold morning air hit her face, the wind slightly tousling her loose curls and she took hold of the gun and took the first step out on to the streets.

She wanted to be the first woman in their pack that Lord Barkis saw. She wanted him to know how angry she was. He had brought hell in to their lives.

After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorn.


	11. Finale: Part One

Finale: Part One:

Lord Barkis took in his surroundings – houses, cobbled streets, small thin alleyways, shops, street lamps. It was the same old street, just like the last time he had walked it. The night he had died.

He had charged after Victoria out of the Everglot's mansion, murder on his mind. He had stayed out of her sight, so she didn't see him. He was hoping she would walk in the woods and then he would've had his opportunity to take her by surprise and fulfil his desires. But no, she walked to the church. And the next thing he saw was her being handed over to the Van Dort boy. With his _former_ lover by their side.

The screaming girl had run away as soon as he started walking. Looking around, he reminded himself of every house on this street. Two houses down on the left hand side was the Van Dort's mansion. He remembered it so clearly from the last time he was there. And he saw that cook peeking from behind the downstairs curtains. As soon as he had set his eyes on that window, the cook disappeared from sight. He smiled to himself, and slowly paced towards their door; feeling like each step was giving him more power.

He couldn't deny, it was going to be interesting. Seeing Emily alive again, as she used to be – young, beautiful, and flawless. But this time she wasn't going to be weak, feeble and easily persuaded. Not like she used to be when he won her silly little heart. Now, she was a woman, a wife and a mother. She had something to fight for. But she didn't scare him. He had taken her once before, he could easily do it again. He had no intention, he wanted the boy, but if push came to shove and she stood in his way. Well…did he need to explain himself?

He arrived a few metres away from their front door and looked around, surveying the streets a little more. Completely empty. Not a soul to be seen. Pity, he thought he was going to get a more 'unwelcoming' reception. It's not every day a living corpse rises to the living world.

Then he heard the front door open slowly.

"Barkis!"

He heard her calling to him. Not in her fluttering, feminine, dainty voice he was used to hearing before. No! This time, she was angry. Her voice was laced with poison, rage and a determination to see him dead. She sounded like a mother dog, barking against her enemy, warning him to stay away from her pups or she would bite.

He turned to face her as she walked out of the front door, beholding the wicked beauty that stood before him. He could see a change in her compared to when he last saw her alive. Her skin was just as creamy and flawless, but now her hair was longer, her cheeks were redder and her eyes darker. And she was holding a shotgun, whilst in her dressing gown.

Behind her, was Victor Van Dort. Barkis' stomach churned with anger as he clapped eyes on him. He looked the same as before – messy black hair, pale skin, defined features.

The cook and the driver walked behind them, with garden shovels grasped firmly in their dead hands. Emily walked down the stairs at the front of their house, leading the gang. Victor walked closely behind her, a crowbar in his hand and balanced on his shoulder, like he was ready to swing it. They stopped short of him, clutching their weapons with such determination. Silence reigned throughout the village, until Barkis chose the moment to speak. He placed his hands behind his back and tilted his head up, and said:

"What a touching sight. I'm glad I have a welcoming reception."

"You're not welcome here, at all" Miss Plum spat.

"Not after what you've done" Mayhew said.

"Oh, let it go. That was a long time ago. I was young and ambitious, and she…" Barkis eyed up Emily up and down with a sick desire in his eye. "She was easy." He smirked.

"Not her, you snake. You know who we mean" Mayhew added.

Barkis paused, pursing his lips together in sarcastic thought. He knew who they were talking about anyway, but he wanted to enjoy this as much as possible.

"Oh, the baby? Yes, I must say it wasn't the ideal choice, but I had to do _something_! I was bored! And you two were just so vulnerable, how could I resist? New parents. Old foes. Could you blame me?" he smirked, looking over to Victor.

"Besides, I had to get you back somehow. You made me like this. I had so many dreams to fulfil, so many aspirations and you took them away from me."

"You had it coming" Emily said.

Barkis looked over at her again, relishing the sight of her. He looked her up and down once more, taking in every feature and curve. He couldn't deny, she was _ravishing_. All that could've been his, but he chose to easier option. He preferred it, but looking at her now, he felt a small stab of regret. He met her eyes and smirked.

"Ah, Emily" he sighed. "Dear Miss Emily Hunter, the prettiest girl in the town…and the easiest heart to win. Out of all of my trophies, you were – by far – the _easiest_ to win. Victoria Everglot did come close, what with the Runaway Groom helping me win her parents trust." Lord Barkis nodded towards Victor.

"But she fell at that last hurdle when she told me she was broke. No one could ever beat you, though, Emily. You were such a petty and innocent loved up girl, who always believed in her fairy tale ending with her knight in shining armour. How pathetic."

Emily raised her shotgun to her chest, keeping her eyes glued to him.

"Not anymore. Emily Hunter is dead. She died along time ago. My name is Van Dort, now. _Mrs_ _Emily Van Dort_ " she smiled, feeling her wedding ring on her left hand, and feeling Victor standing behind her. She could tell he was smiling proudly, judging by the way Lord Barkis was smirking with anger.

"Jealous?" she smiled at him.

"Less talk, more action. I came here for a reason, I won't leave empty handed."

"Too bad. You're not taking anything or anyone from us, I swear" Victor said, standing forward and bringing the crowbar down to his side.

"You've grown, Van Dort" Lord Barkis cocked his head. "I can't deny that. You're not the snivelling weed of a boy you used to be. What happened?"

"I got married" Victor smiled back. "But what happened to you, Barkis?" he said mockingly.

"You of all people should know that. It's your fault that I'm dead" Barkis spat back.

"It was an accident. You didn't know there was poison in that chalice. That poison was intended for me" Victor explained. Barkis paused, surprised.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Emily and I were to be married that night. That's why the living dead were running through the streets, they were preparing for our ceremony. When I disappeared from the Everglot's house, I found Emily where you had left her. Upon rising from the grave, we were married. But the bond of our marriage had already been broken by Emily's death, so it was never official…but my death would've created a new bond. The ceremony had to be conducted in the living world, and I was meant to drink that poison after our vows. But you and Victoria interrupted us and…you know the rest."

"How can I forget? I've had to live in purgatory and solitude for nearly two years!"

"Again, you had it coming" Emily said.

"But I did have some company this past year, I won't deny that. The screaming and crying was torture, but knowing your hearts were breaking each day he was gone was enough to uphold my happiness. Where is the delightful cherub now? I'm sure he'd love to see me again" Barkis asked.

"He is as far away from you as possible" Emily spat. Barkis chuckled under his breath.

"You mean, upstairs in your bedroom?"

Emily's face went pale.

"I can see your maid twitching at the curtains. She's obviously keen to see what's going on. And I remember your bedroom so well. The colour of the curtains, and the shape of the windows. Besides, where else would two loving parents put their baby child, except with them, hmm? He's with the maid in your bedroom."

"What if you're wrong? What if our maid is cleaning our room, and he's with the cooks instead in a different room?" Emily challenged Barkis.

"He's not. Your face has confirmed it. You've gone white as a ghost, and your hands are trembling, Emily. I know where he is. And I know you're scared."

Emily took a deep breath, trying to control her shaking hands as they held the shotgun. She knew any second now, he was going to make a move to snatch Christopher again. She wasn't going to allow it. She felt Victor standing close behind her. He shifted on his feet and stood forward, placing one reassuring hand on her shoulder and still holding the crowbar in the other.

"What do you want from us?" Victor said.

"You know what I want."

"I don't understand why, though. Why do you want him?"

Barkis stared back at him, almost dumbfounded.

"Are you genuinely asking that question?"

"Yes, I am."

Barkis was silent.

"Because I want to hurt you."

"You've already done that" Victor responded. "You did that the night you snatched Christopher. You've already hurt us, Barkis. You've had your revenge. We have suffered mightily these past months. You talk about the pain of losing your life, but until you have a child, you don't know the true meaning of _pain_. Losing a child and having to live with that heartache, _every single day_ is a form of torture. We know.

You should be happy that we have suffered. That's what you wanted. But now he's home. And if you take him again from us, what then? We know where he'll be. We have contact with downstairs; we can easily hunt you down. Not only that, but Christopher has grown since you took him. He's not the new-born baby he used to be. He will grow in to a child and then in to a man, and then he will be strong enough to overpower you. And he _will_ overpower you. Then what?

Our suffering is over. Our boy has come home, and even if you take him again tonight – which you won't – Emily and I will spend every waking moment, hunting you down. And it won't just be us. Mayhew and Miss Plum know what you've done, they'll tell the whole of the village downstairs. You've done nothing but confirm our suspicions and put yourself in the spotlight. And now we know you're responsible…you're not safe.

You're not safe from the living or from the dead. The only option you have is to leave. Now."

Barkis stared at Victor, thinking on his words. He did have a point. When he returned to the Land of the Dead, with or without the child, the cook and the driver would tell everyone. They'd form mobs with swords, weapons and flaming torches. He'd be tortured and they wouldn't give him any mercy. Even in death, he could still feel elements of pain and torture. He was slowly realising that his plan had _not_ gone according to plan.

"Leave now, and never return" Emily added to Victor's speech. She was proud of her husband at that moment. Compared to the bumbling, nervous young man she first met, Victor was a man now. He had loved and lost the things most precious to him and that grief had made him stronger. Young Master Van Dort was now a thing of the past, and in his place stood Mr Van Dort – a proud, strong and determined man. Emily smiled a little at his glory.

"NO!" Barkis yelled.

Emily's attention shot back to him, her grip tightening on the gun. His eyes were blazing with fire, his teeth snarled like a ferocious hound and his hands fisted by his side. He took a step forward to them and instantly, Miss Plum and Mayhew took a step back.

"You won't be getting away that easily. Your words can't dissuade me. I want to see you suffer for the rest of time for what you've done to me."

"Impossible" Victor yelled back, raising the crowbar to his chest level.

"Oh, it's possible! I've taken your boy once, and I'll do it again. But this time, I won't be so kind. I will rip the life out of him and leave him to wander the lands of the dead, forever young and forever lost. He can't speak for help, he can't walk properly. He will never grow up. For the rest of time, he'll be crawling around in search for his Mummy and Daddy. You will never find him. And me? I'll keep hiding."

Barkis continued to step forward, slowly pacing towards Emily and Victor. Miss Plum and Mayhew were more terrified than they had let on; they continued to back away each time Barkis took another step. Victor and Emily remained still in their places. They were determined to see this through.

"No one will find me, and they never will. Your pain shall never cease, knowing your son's life was taken from him at _my hands_. Don't doubt my words Emily; you know I can kill anything when I set my mind to it."

By now, he was at the end of Emily's shotgun, his dead rotting chest brushing the tip, his eyes staring deeply in to hers. She knew he was being serious. He had no limits when it came to revenge.

"I know" she said. "But this time, I won't let you."

"And what will you do, Emily? Shoot me with your gun? You can't kill the dead."

Before she could respond, Barkis swept his arm under the shotgun. As it left Emily's grip, he grabbed the barrel with his right hand and yanked it down by his side. He swung it round in his hands and in a flash, the gun was firmly in both hands, pointing at Emily's chest, who stared wide-eyed and in horror. Victor took it upon himself to become her shield, and immediately stood in front of her. The crowbar now in both hands, holding it like a sword. Now it was useless. Barkis had the most powerful weapon they held. What now?

"I think you'll find it's _my_ gun now." Barkis boasted. "Now step aside. I want that child."

"If you want to get to him, you're going to have go through us first" Victor warned.

"That can be arranged" Barkis sneered, cocking the gun and aiming for Victor's chest. He was going to enjoy this moment.

He took a nice deep breath, savouring the moment before the kill. He always enjoyed this part, and he had missed it. The adrenaline rushing through his body, the look on their faces as they took their last breath, the power he held in his hands. It was glorious. This moment was indescribable…until he heard another voice. It wasn't Emily's or Victors. And it wasn't the cooks or the drivers voice. In fact, it came from behind him. Keeping the gun focused on the couple, Barkis slowly cocked his head and turned around to see what threat stood behind him. His face dropped in horror.


	12. Finale: Part Two (The End)

**Finale: Part Two:**

Victor smiled weakly at the surprise behind Lord Barkis. As Emily stood out from behind his back, she gasped in shock, tears slowly rising to her eyes. Barkis – on the other hand – was horrified at the sight behind him. As he lowered the gun in his hands, another one was aimed at him, as a familiar voice said to him:

"Lord Barkis, turn and face me. For this shall be the last thing you do upon this living earth."

Elder Gutknecht.

Lord Barkis turned to face him, the revenge and hate in his eyes replaced with curiosity. Gutknecht stood by the hole where Barkis had appeared, holding a gun in his bony hands. He wasn't alone. Behind him were at least a dozen skeletons and living zombies. They all stood, narrow-eyed at Barkis, their fists clenched at their sides. They were angry.

Emily gasped at the sight of one of them, as Victor gently held her hand for morale support as she slowly cried at the sight.

It was her father.

Lord Hunter stood to Elder Gutknecht's side, his eyes trained on Barkis.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Barkis questioned.

"We know what you've done" Elder Gutknecht responded, looking down the barrel of his own musket gun. "And now we've come to serve you your punishment."

Lord Barkis laughed mockingly, looking at the gun.

"You're going to shoot me?" Barkis cackled to himself, finding amusement in the situation, unaware of what was about to happen.

"I am, yes." Elder Gutknecht nodded, casually pulling the trigger on his gun.

As the explosive shot echoed throughout the town square, everyone looked in wonder. Everyone except Elder Gutknecht. For it was no ordinary gun. This gun was only used for extreme situations.

As the shot sprung forth from the gun, a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes exploded from the barrel, all heading for Barkis. The further they got, the larger they grew. They started out as a single stream of colours, which then effervesced in to a sparkling cloud. It was like a single drop of water in a river, rippling in to a thousand circles. A rainbow of colours against the dark morning sky, but with a deadly purpose. They enveloped Lord Barkis like a cage and every inch of him was concealed from top to toe. He was still visible to the eyes outside. It was like he was a creature returning to the egg before it hatched. The cage linked itself back to the gun by a single thread, like a tow rope about to guide an old ship back to the harbour, ready for retirement.

Elder Gutknecht handed the gun over to General Wellington, the tall army skeleton killed by cannon fire in the battlefield, still clad in his red uniform and single monocle over his eye socket. The General grasped it firmly and grinned weakly, glad to see Lord Barkis was now serving punishment. As he did, Elder Gutknecht walked forward until he was inches away from the cage that surrounded Barkis. Elder Gutknecht spoke to him with his hands clasped behind his back, circling the cage as Barkis looked on in despair.

"I've kept this gun away for a long time, and only for extreme situations. This gun won't kill you. It merely traps you. Like a fishing net. And it shall never let go. Once it's set its sight on you, you are forever imprisoned in its hold. This is your punishment, Lord Barkis. For the murders of Emily Hunter, and the kidnapping of her son, Christopher Van Dort. We came to an agreement on our journey up here. You will serve your time back down in the Land of the Dead, in the Hidden Realms of the Unknown for eternity. A land so dark, so gruesome, and so agonising; only the devil dare set foot there. I should warn you though, that has happened. And upon exiting, the devil was happy to be rid of that place."

Lord Barkis watched and listened from inside his cage, his eyes stricken with horror. He was going to a place worse than hell.

"Time to go" Elder Gutknecht said.

On his last words, General Wellington pulled the trigger. The cage was slowly towed closer and closer to the gun. As it did, the cage started to shrink and so did everything else trapped inside. Barkis was clawing at the walls, desperately seeking a way out. No luck.

As the cage became closer to the gun, it shrivelled to the same size of the barrel itself. Barkis disappeared completely from sight, only the shimmering rainbow colours of the energetic stream visible as it finally disappeared in to the gun.

General Wellington lowered the gun and beckoned his friend – but previous enemy – General Bonesapart, the dwarf soldier in blue uniform. He gladly handed him an empty glass jar with its lid separate, and watched as Wellington placed the guns barrel in to the jar. Once more, he pulled the trigger and in a quick sudden shock, the colours reappeared in the jar.

Everyone heard a brief shrill cry from Barkis, as his remains were stored in the glass jar and the lid sealed on tightly by General Bonesapart.

"Tis done" Wellington said firmly, watching Bonesapart tighten the lid.

"Now what?" Bonesapart said, looking in to the jar.

"Dawn is approaching" Elder Gutknecht warned, still standing in the place where the cage once was. "We have a limited amount of time in this land before the living rise from their beds. We cannot risk being seen. We must go. Immediately!"

On his last words, the Generals nodded and turned to the rest of the living dead crowd.

"Everyone, we return to the underworld" Wellington began, drawing his sword from his holster and holding it high, commanding everyone.

"With haste" Bonesapart added, holding the swirling jar of colours in his hands.

The zombies and skeleton nodded in unison, not speaking a word out of tune. They hastily turned to the entrance where they and Barkis had appeared, and one by one hopped inside like it was a ball pit for children. They each disappeared from sight, occasionally looking around to see if any living residents were awake and watching them.

Meanwhile, Miss Plum and Mayhew followed suit. They saw Elder Gutknecht watching them intently. They dropped their shovels with a clang and slowly walked towards Emily and Victor. Miss Plum placed a hand on Emily's shoulder, getting her attention.

"We must go now, dear." Emily embraced her in a loving hug, sniffing away her tears.

"Keep in touch" she said. As they hugged, Mayhew approached Victor and offered him a free hand to shake.

"Til next time, sir" he said. Victor turned to him and shook his head, pulling him in to a hug as well.

"Take care Mayhew. And thank you" he smiled.

"Ahem" the Elder coughed, breaking the silence between them. "We have mere minutes left, no time to waste. I am sorry."

Miss Plum and Mayhew pulled away and smiled once more at the couple, heading towards the hole in the ground. They hopped inside together, holding hands and smiling.

The village square went silent. The morning sun was edging closer to the horizon and the night sky was slowly fading in to nothing. Emily and Victor stood side by side, glad to see their troubles were over. Barkis was gone, their son was safe. But there was just one thing left to do. Emily whispered to Victor:

"Victor…run upstairs and fetch Christopher. I want my father to meet him before he goes."

Victor nodded in silence and left her side, running back in to their house and up the stairs to their room.

Emily took a deep breath and turned back to see the zombie that had caught her eye earlier.

He was still wearing the clothes he had died in, his skin ice-cold blue and pale, his dark hair ruffled and out of place but his wiry moustache still looking trim and proper. He still looked dashing as when he was alive. He stared back at her from afar, tears filling his eyes.

Elder Gutknecht approached Emily, reaching out a hand to her. She gladly accepted and walked with him as she led her to her father.

"You have ten minutes, my dear. Use them wisely" he said to her, then walked back to the hole in the ground, perching himself against the horse statue behind him. He wouldn't intrude on their valuable time, but he needed to watch for the sunset and any living residents.

"Emily" Lord Hunter whispered. At that point, Emily's tears were down pouring down her face uncontrollably.

"Daddy" she cried, throwing her arms around his skeletal frame and crying heavily in to his jacket. Lord Hunter repeated the notion and enveloped her in his arms, closing his eyes and savouring the moment of father and daughter reunited.

"Oh Emily…my dear, sweet Emily…I have to say…" he said, still holding her tightly. Emily listened, her eyes closed in content and comfort.

"What the Elder said…about that man Barkis. He said he killed Emily Hunter."

Emily's eyes snapped open in horror. Oh god, he didn't know the truth! Of course. When she returned home after being reincarnated, she claimed she had amnesia and couldn't remember what happened after she disappeared. She pulled away from his embrace and looked him in the eyes.

"Dad…" she began. "Please, let me explain…"

"You don't have to. I already know." Emily paused in shock.

"You do?"

"Yes. It all made sense. I realised how much I knew already, and I was able to piece the bits together. I remember you coming home one day, some years ago, gleefully talking about a new man in the village called Lord Barkis Bittern. Now, that name isn't common. Sweetheart…I know he killed mother woke the morning after you disappeared to find her wedding dress gone and our jewels stolen. It was obvious you had eloped with him without saying goodbye. The Elder skeleton informed me that you were placed under an oak tree in the nearby woods."

Emily nodded, finding it hard to believe that this was all happening.

"That's where Victor found me" she said. "He brought me back to life from the dead and became my husband…temporarily."

"I've been informed of everything in-between, darling. The wedding, Victor's first fiancée, Barkis' demise, your reincarnation, and I already knew about my grandson's disappearance. The Elder skeleton answered all of my questions and told me the whole story. We were talking in his tower downstairs a few hours ago; he told me everything from the night you died to the day you came home. He then proceeded to show me a secret portal."

"Secret portal?"

"Yes. Like a magical window in to this land. He created it to show you to me, how you were currently living. That's when we realised that you needed some help."

Emily's eyebrows frowned in confusion.

"We had heard the great news that Christopher was found safely and returned to you. The Elder opened the portal to show me your happiness and content, but instead we saw you and Victor on the streets coming face to face with that mad man, weapons in hand and ready to fight. We acted on impulse, gathered as many people as possible and came to help. The Elder brought the gun with him to…" Lord Hunter acknowledged Elder Gutknecht.

"To trap Lord Barkis' soul for eternity. We saw you confronting him and we immediately knew he was responsible for Christopher's abduction. We brought reinforcements, and we brought his ultimate punishment. He won't be bothering you or anyone else for the rest of time." Elder Gutknecht spoke.

Emily listened in awe.

"I cannot believe this. But you're handling it so well" Emily smiled weakly in amazement.

"Because it all makes sense" Lord Hunter sighed. "As painful as it is to know what you went through…" he said, before Emily grabbed his dead hands tightly in hers, looking deep in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I am truly sorry for the hurt I caused you and Mum. I was naïve, foolish, stupid and easily charmed. I thought I was making a good decision by marrying him. But I learnt the hard way that I was wrong, and I am sorry for the suffering you had to endure and if I could turn back the clock and change it all, I would."

"Don't say that, darling. If you went back and changed it all, you would never have met Victor. You would never have created that beautiful boy that I get to call my grandson."

"I _had_ to name him after you, Dad. Can you ever forgive me? For the awful things I did?"

"Sweetheart, there's no need for that. You apologised for it a long time ago."

"When?" Emily struggled to think.

"When you came home."

Lord Hunter caressed his daughter's cheek, a single tear falling down his cheek, his gaze then averting to behind Emily. She looked over her shoulder to see Victor standing on their front doorsteps, Christopher in his arms.

"Would you like to meet him properly?" she asked.

Lord Hunter said nothing. He smiled and nodded. Emily looked over to Victor and waved for him to come over. He immediately responded and calmly jogged over to her, holding Christopher tightly.

"Lord Hunter" Victor nodded as he approached his late father-in-law.

"Victor please, call me Christopher." Lord Hunter beamed, then looking down to the bundle in his arms.

"May I?" he asked, stretching his arms out as an invitation. Victor didn't hesitate. He passed Christopher over to Lord Hunter, Emily watching with tears in her eyes as her father took hold of his grandson carefully in both arms, looking down at him. Little Christopher watched with wide eyes what was going on around him, curious to know who the blue faced man was.

"Hello young sir" Lord Hunter smiled at him. "I'm your grandfather. Albeit, _late_ grandfather, but still."

Victor and Emily chuckled softly, enjoying the moment of a small family reunion. Emily knew their time was limited, but she tried not to think about it. Nothing could ruin this moment.

"He is beautiful" Lord Hunter remarked. "He looks just like you, Victor."

"He has Emily's nose though" Victor added. "He is as beautiful as his mother."

"I will not deny that" Emily smiled.

She was enjoying this so much, she almost forgot about the sunrise peaking above the horizon. As if on cue, Elder Gutknecht interrupted:  
"I'm afraid time is up."

Emily's smile dropped instantly, her eyes catching the sunlight reflecting on the town houses.

"No" Emily moaned sadly. "They've only just met. Please, just a few more minutes."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Emily. I cannot control time. Say what you must and bid farewell. The sun is rising; a new day is upon us." Elder Gutknecht said, his voice laced with sadness.

"We must obey, Emily" Lord Hunter said, gently rocking Christopher. "As much as I would love to stay, I must go. It is inevitable."

"But you can't…I don't want you to go, Dad" Emily pleaded. "We can hide you in the house. Mum never has to know, and you can watch Christopher grow in to a man…"

"Darling, calm yourself. Turn around, look at the man beside you, and tell me what you see."

Emily turned to face Victor, who was listening intently.

"Victor, my husband. The man who saved my life in many ways, gave me life and loves me beyond life and death itself. The best husband any woman could wish for, and…and a devoted father."

"Exactly. That is what a father must be. Devoted. A father teaches his child the ways of the world. How to love, care, be free, be honest and how to live to the fullest. That's what my father taught me, and that's what I taught you. You were always so intent on being busy, never losing a moment in life to boredom, and always grabbing every opportunity that life threw at you. That's why you learnt the piano, painted in your room, played in the village, taught yourself to dance, read all the books you wanted to. Because that's what I had taught you, correct?"

Emily nodded, tears in her eyes.

"Let Victor be that for Christopher. Let him be a role model, a devoted figure and a loving man. You both have to catch up on some missed time with Christopher. You no longer need me. I have done my duty. I raised a beautiful daughter, and words cannot describe how proud I am of her. She has found a wonderful man who will be the best father to her child."

Emily cried, bowing her head as Victor held her hands in his.

"But I don't want you to go. I still need my Daddy" she whined, tears streaming down her face.

"When you died…I wasn't there. I wasn't there to say a proper goodbye." She wiped away her tears and took a deep breath, holding herself together.

"I always thought…you would pass away in your bed, with us gathered around you. Me, Mum and Victor. So I could say goodbye to you properly."

"You can do that now, sweetheart. I'm here. And until we meet again in death, I will not see you again. Now is the time to say goodbye, Emily. It's now or never."

Lord Hunter handed Christopher over to Victor, who gladly took him in his arms and took a step back, allowing Emily to throw her arms around her father again.

She cried uncontrollably in to his jacket, quivering as she sobbed, not holding any emotions back. Lord Hunter nuzzled his face in to her dressing gown, closing his eyes and holding her tightly.

"Goodbye Emily" he said. Emily took her time, not wanting to waste a second. She hugged her father a little tighter, before finally letting him go.

"Goodbye Dad" she sniffed. He wiped away a stray tear from her face, before realising that Elder Gutknecht was standing right behind him.

"I'm sorry, but we have to go now. We have only seconds left."

"Alright, thank you" Lord Hunter whispered, before looking over to Victor. He approached him, looked him square in the eye and patted him on the shoulder.

"Victor, you know what to do. Take care of my daughter and of your son."

"Of course. Good to see you again, however brief."

"One last thing" Lord Hunter said. He lowered his gaze to Christopher, who looked back at him with curious eyes.

"You take care of your Mum, little one. I'll be your guardian angel, I'll always watch over you."

Little Christopher giggled in delight as his grandfather placed a single kiss on his forehead.

"It's time" Elder Gutknecht said.

Lord Hunter walked away from Victor and stopped at Emily one more time, holding her hands in his.

"This isn't goodbye forever, sweetheart. Merely…see you later."

Emily – eyes red from excessive crying – looked back up at her Dad and smiled weakly, nodding in reassurance. She had faith and hope that she would see her father again. Albeit, not for a good long time, but never-the-less, they would be reunited again. He kissed her once more on the forehead as the sun peaked over the horizon in a glorious blaze.

Lord Hunter pulled away from Emily and walked with Elder Gutknecht, the sunlight beaming on to their bones and rotten clothes. Even in death, they both looked incredible. Elder Gutknecht approached the hole and looked back at the family before him. Husband and wife. Father and mother with son.

"Until we meet again" he said. Emily nodded again, wiping another tear from her cheek, feeling Victor standing beside her. Elder Gutknecht hopped inside the hole like it was a fun slide in a children's playground. She watched her father go, leaning towards the hole and preparing to jump.

"See you later, Dad" she called.

Lord Hunter smiled back, a hearty, loving smile…and then disappeared down the hole. As if it had never existed, the hole healed itself, each stone popping back in to its original spot and leaving no trace of disturbance.

The village was filled with silence once more, all the troubles of the night disappearing as if the sunlight had washed it away, like a new tidal wave on a beach. As if on cue, villagers started opening their windows and looking out in to the street, preparing for another day.

"I don't care what they see, Victor" Emily said to him. "I don't care if they see me in my dressing gown, in the middle of the street, first thing in the morning, with shovels and a crowbar behind me with no apparent reason. I don't care if it becomes common gossip. I just _don't care_. That was one of the toughest things I have ever had to do…but I don't regret it. Not for a single second. I've said my goodbyes to my father; his death is now officially in the past. Now, we have to focus on the present and look to the future."

She took a deep breath and turned to face him.

"What matters now, is our son. _He_ is our priority. We have lost time to catch up on, and I won't waste a single second regaining that lost time. True, we will never get it back, thanks to Barkis, but the past is set in stone and we can't change a thing.

From now on, we are going to be the best parents our boy can get. I want to dress him in his clothes, watch him play with his grandmother, take him for picnics by the river, teach him to walk, and watch him go to his first day at school. Understand?"

Victor didn't say anything. He simply looked back at his wife, smiled at her, kissed her deeply and lovingly, and said:

"I completely understand."

Emily could no nothing more than smile and be thankful. Thankful for everything she had. She made it all the more exciting when she looked down at Christopher, tickling his tummy and saying in a chirpy voice:

"Now you, little man. Let's get you inside and call your grandmother. She'll be delighted to wake up to this news."

 **The End.**

 **Authors Note:**

Another story complete. I hope you've enjoyed reading it, as much as I have had fun planning and writing it.

Got any thoughts? Comments? Please tell me! I really appreciate them.

Love from the UK!

Corpsegirl93 xxx


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